Dispatches from the United Commonwealth
by Cupcakedoll
Summary: A few years after Sole Survivor Em set up a truce between the powers in the Commonwealth, a brotherhood scribe has come to report on how things are going.
1. The End of the Story first

**This story will be a mixture of shorts about life in the United Commonwealth presented by Scribe Ellison, a slightly prissy Brotherhood scribe who writes in present tense, and Sole Survivor Em's memories of her adventures, aka the same novelization everyone else is doing. So why am I doing one if everyone else is? Because novelizations are fun. It's been years since I did one and I forgot how blissfully easy they are, especially when my main story is moving like snails in January. (yes it is still moving. Just… backwards, sometimes.)**

**This story does not have a plan; I expect I'll post bits every so often until I get bored with it. **

The End of the Story First

Recording by Scribe Ellison

To Overseer Almodovar and Mayor Simms, Elder Robinson, from Scribe Ellison, Order of the Quill:

The caravan and I arrived safely in the settlement of Sanctuary and I met the leader of the United Commonwealth. I will be sending concise reports by courier, but this record will be a detailed description of the state of life in the Commonwealth. I believe you recruited me from the Arlington Library for my writing skill so I will describe everything fully. There has been a lot to see.

To begin: You requested also a description of the leader of Commonwealth civilization, who is mostly called General or Em but offered her full name as Emily Rhonda Mason. She looks like a hundred other women of the wasteland. The same wiry build, from hard work and scant food. Her black hair is pinned back in a bun and she wears black-rimmed glasses and a much-patched vault suit with mismatched bits of armor over it. Her voice is low and throaty and suits her dry humor. She reminds me more than a bit of your friend in Megaton, Overseer.

This, more or less, was our first conversation:

"You're the General of the Minutemen."

"Yes, but it's mostly ceremonial. Preston really runs things."

"And a Railroad agent?"

"Mmhm."

"Member of the Brotherhood?"

"Not since they found out about the Railroad agent part, but I may be reinstated if we can keep the peace."

"Anything else? Are you Director of the Institute too?"

She laughs. "Mother of two to four. De facto leader of… all this."

'All this' is really quite a lot. Sanctuary is smaller than Megaton, but not by very much. The population is around thirty people, though some of them travel between the settlements of the Commonwealth as needed. And there are twenty-four similar civilian settlements around the Commonwealth plus two disputed settlements and the "Castle" which is mainly a Minutemen training ground and barracks. Several other locations are being scouted for future settlements. The United Commonwealth may be a bit shaky, but it is growing.

Sanctuary has eight pre-war houses still standing and five more buildings recently built on empty foundations. The labor must have been terrific. The settlement is built on an island surrounded by an irradiated river. Four industrial water purifiers parked upstream render the water less toxic, but still not safe for drinking straight from the river. (This must be a failed experiment in cleaning the river.) As we walked through the settlement two teenagers ran past us and my hostess reminded them to stay out of the river.

Yes, there are children here. Five of them: teenagers Jimmy and Kayna, toddler Maya, and my hostess' two children, Shaun and Shiloh. She mentioned casually that the provisioners' children live in Diamond City for school. But I digress; the childrens' stories should have their own section. I will return to describing Sanctuary as I first saw it.

Water is provided to the settlement by another large purifier, and there are also three pumps sunk to groundwater in case the purifier should be damaged. Food is grown on every square foot of soil clean enough to support it. Stands of corn and razorgrain provide flour for bread—gritty, sour bread, but edible topped with butter and jam. Carrots, tomatoes and melons provide vitamins and a little variety in the diet. The six brahmin cows give milk for cheese and their male calves are slaughtered. Most of the meat is from monsters—or 'wild game' as it's called. Mole rats, radroach, and mirelurk mostly, but yao guai end up on the table as well. I'm told they've even eaten deathclaw, and that it makes a decent jerky if smoked.

The staple crop of Sanctuary, though, is mutfruit. Fresh, dried, juiced, as jam, or fermented into alcohol. Mutfruit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I will say it's more palatable than the endless cans of pork 'n' beans that are our lot in Megaton. We have been offered seeds and sprouts of all the local crops in trade for the same from the Capitol, and I had to confess we're mostly living on prewar cans since the soil around Megaton is sterile and nothing will grow. Please contact the Treeminders and remind them of their promise to trade seeds.

In addition to the brahmin there are half a dozen guard dogs in Sanctuary, and at least as many cats that keep mice out of the grain. Em asked eagerly if I'd heard any rumors of chickens but I had to disappoint her. She said she'd spoken with a trader who swore he'd seen live chickens in a settlement to the east. An expedition to look for these chickens is being planned.

Sanctuary mounts expeditions frequently, for the purpose of mapping and clearing monsters from different parts of the Commonwealth. Boston proper is held by super mutants, a group too large and entrenched to drive out, but other areas are only infested with feral ghouls or mole rats and can be made safer with regular patrols. The community's maps, which exist on paper as well as drawn on a wall, are quite impressive. Settlements, surviving prewar buildings, and monster lairs are marked. Nothing we don't have in Megaton or at the memorial but it's impressive for a group of civilians who only recently acquired occasional access to flight. (Thus far in my visit, rumors that my hostess is going on vertibird rides with Paladin Danse seem unfounded.)

Other walls in the settlement are covered in art. Charcoal is the only medium available and that washes off every time it rains, but some of the people of Sanctuary take time in the evenings after work is done to draw on the walls. At the moment the biggest picture is of a deathclaw guarding its egg, and there are smaller works depicting people and dogs fighting wasteland monsters.

My impression is of a healthy growing settlement that will have much to trade with us in the capital. In future messages I will describe things I find here and events I witness here in the Commonwealth.


	2. The Beginning of the Story Second

2 The Beginning of the Story Second

Begin recording

"Is this thing working? All right. This is Emily Mason of Sanctuary, recording for Scribe Ellison. You already have three full holotapes of everything I can remember about prewar technology including how I think our clothes washer worked. What do you want to hear about this time?"

"The scribes at the library want to hear how I arrived in the wasteland? How I woke up, you mean. I think I have enough drinks for that. Tom! 'Nother dirty wastelander! All right.

I woke up. And fell forward out of the 'decontamination' pod. I remember my hands hitting the floor, which was slick with chemical slush from the cryogenics pods. The room was wet, dripping and clammy.

And I felt awful. Feverish, cold and hot, my head full of memories of the bomb and the strangers who killed my husband and I wasn't sure which of my memories were real. I sat there on the wet floor coughing air back into my lungs while god knows what soaked into my pants.

When I could finally stand up the first thing I did was check on Nate. I'd seen him get shot but maybe that was a dream, maybe.

But he was dead. The pod was halfway open just as I remembered and he was lying there dried out, almost mummified like being frozen had pulled all the water out of his body. I wanted to get him out of there, let him rest somewhere with more dignity, but at the time I could barely stay on my feet. The only thing I could do was take his wedding ring and string it with mine on the chain around my neck. I still wear them.

I almost climbed in next to him. The cold probably would've finished things quickly enough, but even then I couldn't do it. I gasped and cried some, and fell down and had to stand up again, and finally I moved on. I tried to open the other pods but just got a malfunction message. I could see my neighbors, crumpled and mummified too with frost on their skins. The Callahans, the Abels and Old Mr. Russel were dead.

I stumbled out of that tomb and found only another cryo chamber and another set of bodies. Nobody answered when I finally thought to call out, and the only sign of life was crawling on one of the pods: a cockroach the size of my hand. I looked at it for a minute but thought it was a hallucination.

I remember it took ages to open the door into the rest of the vault. My fingers were too stiff to move the lever. On the other side at least it was warm. I could see through the observation window into the reactor room and something big was clinging to the window: a roach the size of a skateboard. I think I yelled and jumped and then… sort of decided they weren't real. I mean, giant roaches? What the hell, right?

I guess I realized they were real later on when I met some and bashed them.

It's kind of a blur what order things happened. I shuffled around, looking for people, for help—for hours, it felt like. I remember drinking at a sink, I was parched. I remember finding bodies, just skeletons in vault suits.

Then I must've activated a motion trigger because a cheery recording began, "Vault residents, please form an orderly line to receive your revival medical check and medications."

I followed the voice to a terminal on a table that I must've walked past a few times without noticing it in my fog. I remembered the table as being covered with wrapped vault suits. Now it held some kind of icebox containing twenty sets of injectors—like stimpacks but for different medicines.

The recording continued, "You may experience side effects such as dizziness, fever, disorientation, hallucinations, nausea..." Check, check, and check, except for the nausea. I was ravenous.

"...please administer the three revival cocktails at one hour intervals. Please see vault medical staff if you are unable to administer injections..."

I picked up the first dose, which was clearly labeled. I'd used stimpacks before, for aches and pains, so I knew how to use one. But in my current state I wasn't sure I wanted to. My husband was dead, my baby was probably dead, my neighbors were dead, the world was dead…

Nate said, "Oh no you don't. Em, you have to keep going."

It was Nate's voice, it really was. I actually looked around to see if he'd come to help me.

"Nate?"

"You have to find Shaun. So take that medicine and then look around this place."

I was hallucinating, of course, and part of me knew it. When Nate came back from the war I read all the government issue books on shellshock and the effects of trauma. I'd probably have been hearing things even without how sick I was.

But I took Nate's advice and sat down and gave myself the first injection, betting on the fact that it had been frozen just like I was so it should still be safe.

And a few minutes after taking it I did feel a bit better. My head cleared and my hands stopped shaking and I felt like I could pay attention to the world a bit better.

"Nate?"

"Right here sweetie. Let's find you some food and a bed."

So the disembodied voice of my dead husband and I explored the rooms of Vault 111. There wasn't much. The two cryogenic tombs, a small area for workers who were meant to remain alive to watch over us while we were frozen, and the overseer's quarters. Nate pointed out the gun I used to shoot my first radroach. He reminded me when it was time for the second doze of medicine. He said other things too. When I didn't think I could stand to get anywhere near the giant roaches he reminded me of our afternoons at the range where he and his army buddies taught me to shoot until I was as good as any of them. Nate got rid of his gun when Shaun was born, said he didn't want it in the house. He was right of course, but I missed shooting a gun I knew.

I found the best thing on a scientist by the vault door. Pip-boy, still working, measuring the nonexistent vital signs of the skeletal arm that wore it. I put it on and it reported I was suffering from the aftereffects of cryogenic suspension and needed medical attention. No kidding.

As I searched the rooms and even the bodies for anything useful I heard Nate's voice less and less until it just sounded like my own thoughts again. I missed him, but like a dream I couldn't call back the hallucination.

The thing I was really searching for was food, and there wasn't any. The storage area was empty. Records on a terminal revealed what happened: the vault was only supplied for a few months, and the radiation levels outside were still high when the food ran out. I guess the staff was looking to leave anyway before they starved and the scientists didn't want to expose the vault to irradiated dust. Not sure how it all turned out, but there were a lot of bodies. And no food. Until I broke into the last drawer in the overseer's desk and found a few cans. I ate one while I laid out everything useful I'd found in the vault. Pistol, ammo, a security baton, as many bottles as I could find, filled with water, some stimpacks. A couple of clean vault suits, though the cryo-slime tested as nontoxic. I'd had to take shoes off a corpse since I'd been wearing heels on that last day and whatever was outside heels probably weren't the correct footwear. I found a backpack in one of the staff lockers and packed everything up, after a long internal debate about whether to put the gun in my pack or in a pocket where I could more easily access it? If there were giant bugs, what else was waiting outside? Or would there just be nothing, miles of bare rock with no life?

By now so exhausted that I couldn't really be afraid, I crawled into the overseer's bed and fell asleep without even taking off the Pip-boy.

I woke up early, as I usually do but this time there was no baby crying to be fed or husband shaving at the bathroom mirror, just the cold silent vault. The vault's water system still worked so I showered and put on a clean vault suit and boots to be ready for whatever I might find outside. I felt better today, physically healthy again and able to think clearly. Mourning for Nate was a vast ocean of pain inside me but I wasn't drowning in it. I could mourn by spoonfuls while I kept myself alive. The first step was to get out of here, find a place with food and life. See what the outside world was like. I hesitated at the terminal that activated the elevator to the surface.

And then I heard Nate's voice one more time. I was thinking I didn't want to leave him here in this terrible place and he said, "Shaun needs you, Em. Don't look back."

"I'll find him. I'll find out who did this to us, and I'll get him back."

So I stepped onto the elevator and watched the door crack open above me as it carried me up into the sunlight.


	3. Experiment

Experiment

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"You have a pet ghoul?"

A deep sigh. "It's an experiment. Doc Jenna's idea. Ghouls are prewar people whose minds were destroyed by radiation. So I found a ghoul in a labcoat and hauled it back here alive and we've been stuffing it full of mentats ever since."

The one-armed feral ghoul is tied to a pole, with several layers of chains and ropes that keep it suspended off the ground. As we approach it squirms and hisses. I ask, "Do you really believe enough mentats are going to turn that thing into a rational being again?"

"I believe it needs to be tried. Many times. This one came from Med-Tek, it was wearing a white coat when I grabbed it. If we can get it talking again, it could know all sorts of medical secrets. I admit, things don't look promising so far."


	4. Children

Children

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Two kids dash past us, see me, and stop to stare. They're better fed than the adults and dressed in cutoff leathers. The boy is maybe fifteen and snowy blond, the girl a few years younger with dark brown skin.

"There are children here."

"Just five." Em tells me, "The others are at school in Diamond City, or on Spectacle Island. Sanctuary is home, but Spectacle Island is better defended."

The boy says, "We're going down to the farm to see the kittens. Chores are done!" Both children pull pistols from their belts and load them, their small hands practiced. They also both have knives in leather sheathes.

My hostess smiles and waves them on with a cheerful, "Have fun!" I ask where the children came from.

"Jimmy arrived with his mother, she was… dying." A half shrug. "It wasn't radiation; best the docs could figure she walked through a pocket of something, some gas left over from the war. She couldn't even tell us where they'd come from.

"I found Kayna in a raider camp, Libertalia they called it. We'd gotten a message that the raiders wanted to trade with us so I went to talk terms. But maybe there was a change of leadership on the barges because I had to fight my way out. I tried to just get away but they kept coming at me. Ended up wiping out most of the camp—and there was Kayna, hiding under a bed. She shot at me too but Dogmeat grabbed her and we hauled her home. Once she calmed down and realized she was in a place where people would keep their hands off it got better."

I knew in an intellectual way that there are female raiders, but I'd never give much thought about how they got there. Or what their life might be like before they grew old enough to defend themselves from the unwanted attentions of male raiders.

"Who are the other children?" I ask, to end that unsavory train of thought. And because they've come into view, three kids working, digging out a new garden plot. Two children of twelve or so and a very little girl who wobbles around on a prosthetic leg.

"That's Maya Long, she was born here. Lost her leg in a synth attack. The other two are mine. Shaun! Shiloh!"

Near identical children, both black haired and dusky skinned like their mother. They're dressed in cut-down settler's rags wrapped with leather strips around the knees and wrists. I'm faintly relieved to see that they aren't carrying guns. The two of them are turning soil in a garden bed, mixing in brahmin dung. They come over to us when their mother calls, towing the toddler between them.

"This is Scribe Ellison from the Capitol. He's going to send messages back and forth so we can trade with the capitol for things we need. Like apples, I hope. And we'll give them some mutfruit."

The children size me up. The boy asks, "Do you have power armor too?"

"I do, but I left it back home. I couldn't wear it and keep up with the caravan. My job is to learn things and write them down so other people can learn them too. I came here to learn what all of you here have discovered that my friends in the capitol don't know about, like farming. The Brotherhood has lots of guns and flying machines but we can't feed civilians with those.'

"You could by shooting deathclaws from your vertibird!"

"I suppose you could." I concede. "But sooner or later people need vegetables." With that sentence I can see young Shaun decide that I am terminally boring. His mother chuckles behind her hand.

Shiloh asks, "Are you secretly here to steal synths? A bunch of other Brotherhood were."

"No. Just here to learn. The Institute can keep its synths." The girl is giving me a suspicious stare. I wonder why she cares.

Em puts her arm around Shiloh's shoulders. "The Brotherhood agreed to leave synths alone. If they break that agreement the Institute will be free to attack Brotherhood soldiers and that'll be more trouble for the Brotherhood. And how angry do you thing Maxson and Danse would be about that?"

Shiloh nods and seems reassured as to my intentions. And for the record, at this time I know nothing about any Brotherhood plans to disrupt the truce and would be most strongly against such plans if they did exist. The Commonwealth is almost a stable source of food exports, something not worth risking no matter how much my fellow scribes want to steal the Institute's technology.


	5. Homecoming

Begin recording

Pick up from where I left off? All right.

It was the light I remember. I'd been in the vault for two days… two hundred years… and the light streaming in as the vault's seal cracked open blinded me. When I could see again I was looking down at my neighborhood, now blasted and empty. The sunlight reflected from bare rock and earth, the leafless trees didn't cast any shade. The ruined world shone and its silence filled my ears.

I turned away, eventually, and stumbled off the platform, past the rusty trucks and skeletons of soldiers. I could almost remember their faces; it was only yesterday that they'd herded my neighbors up here, and kept everyone who wasn't on the list out. Did they know we were going to be frozen? Did they know _they_ would be shut out of the vault to die?

A sharp sound distracted me. Two birds flapped and cawed in one of the bare trees. Crows, but the first sign of ordinary life so I was glad to see it. I checked my pip-boy: no radiation above normal background levels. The crows and I weren't being poisoned.

I had the presence of mind to go through the wooden crates at the scene and grab a few bullets and some radaway. One of the crates held a giant claw, a huge scaly hand. Now I know it came off a deathclaw, but at the time I'm not sure what I thought the rotting thing was.

I made my way down the hill and down to the stream. My pip-boy did not like the water at all; I knew I'd have to get my drinks and showers in the vault. Which we did, by the way, for months while we hunted for parts for Sturges to make the first purifier.

And there was Sanctuary Hills. Houses blasted down, or full of holes—I'm sure you've seen towns that haven't been touched since the bombs fell. I saw no one, and heard no signs of life.

Then—a familiar hiss and whir. It was Cogsworth, our Mr. Handy! He greeted me with delight. I don't think he knew what had happened, and I still wasn't quite myself. I remember him telling me I was two hundred years late for dinner and wailing about dusting a house with the roof torn open. Having no one to serve is not ideal for a robot programmed to be of service.

Then he asked, "Where is your better half?"

And I said without really thinking, "He's in a better place."

Cogsworth didn't seem able to process that, or really understand about my son being kidnapped, so we set out to search Sanctuary Falls for them. What a pair, both of us rattled and not firing on all cylinders, and desperate for something familiar.

I'd gotten a bit behind when I heard Cogsworth say, "Fancy a bit of fisticuffs?" which meant he was ready to fight.

"Cogsworth!" I yelled and ran after him. He was inside one of the houses, slicing up a giant fly with his trimming blade. That was my first bloatfly, thankfully dead before I got to it. Hate those things.

"My sensors are picking up movement in another house! Follow me!"

"Cogsworth, wait! What are—how many of those things-" But he was off. We charged in and I whacked some bloatflies with my vault security baton.

I was busy with the flies and when I looked up I was in a baby's room. Mrs. Sumner was expecting a child. The sight of the crib, faded and filthy from the elements, hit me hard and I gasped and dropped my weapon.

"Miss Emily!"

"I'm all right Cogsworth, just...'

"They aren't here are they? The master and young Shaun, they aren't anywhere!"

That's what I was feeling too but I said, "We tried. Thank you. I'll have to keep looking."

Cogsworth's limbs perked up and he suggested going to Concord where they'd 'only shot at him a few times.'

"Shot at you? Who did?"

"I did not get their names, Ma'am. Unpleasant sorts, very rough customers."

So humanity had survived, and so had ammunition. "All right, I'll go there soon. First let's see what we can do here."

So I went into my house.

And everything was still there.

Shaun's bottle by the sink, the grocery list on the fridge, the Grognak comic Nate was reading that last day. I picked up the trifold flag and put it back on its shelf, next to the framed paper that had been my law degree before two hundred years had bleached every word from the paper. Everything was dusty, splintery, faded. Leaves carpeted the floor inches deep.

Shaun's room was almost too much. I was fading again, wondering if this was a dream. No. I had to pay attention, because this was shelter and if I didn't want to go back to the vault every night I needed to make some kind of camp here.

Our bedroom was facing the blast and its lovely picture windows had blown out leaving the room open to the air. No sleeping here. In the end I decided the bathroom was the most sheltered room and piled sofa cushions in the shower for a bed.

I spent the rest of the day exploring the other houses for anything useful. Ancient canned food, clothes and fabric for warmth. I found a terminal that worked—and found out one of my neighbors was a drug dealer! That was a surprise.

By the end of the day I'd collected a stash of food and clean water and had no strength left for anything else. I kept slipping and seeing my neighborhood like it had been yesterday. Dinner was another can of pork'n'beans and I went to bed when it was barely dark. I'd asked Cogsworth to keep watch but still, it was a long night. I jumped at every noise, even knowing we'd cleared all the giant bugs out of Sanctuary.


	6. Raiders

Raiders

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"General!" The woman is panting and her face is pale. "At the bridge, raiders—they're not attacking but—"

Em is off running, and I lag behind. When we reach the bridge half the settlers are here, crowded behind sandbag guard positions with guns ready.

The raiders are standing well back, except for a woman strolling onto the bridge with a broad grin on her face.

She does not look like the most stable of raiders. Patchwork armor coming apart, eyes showing white all around. Her half-shaved head is sprinkled with boils. She's holding a bundle that moves. A baby.

Em slows to stand at her end of the bridge. She doesn't reach for the gun at her side. "Hello. Would you like to leave the baby with us? We'll take good care of him, send him to a family in a safe settlement." Her voice is calm. She holds out her arms.

The raider woman is giggling. She does a drunken pirouette, swinging the child dangerously. Beside me Doc Jenna mutters, "Glows meltin' her brain."

"You want my baaaaaby?" The woman croons. "You killed his daddy. I'm gonna give you 'im." She tucks the baby in one arm and fumbles in her coat with the other, then she's bending down arranging something on the road at her feet.

Preston Garvey realizes it first. "Mines. Mines! Get behind cover!"

Doc Jenna curses and backs off, getting her valuable skills out of danger.

Em hasn't moved. "Please don't. Let's make a deal—do you want caps? Chems?"

The raider puts her baby down between the three mines, activates them and scampers back before they can arm. She brays another laugh, "Geeeeeneral, are you going to let the baby starve or blow him uuuuup? Happy Christmas!" She turns and runs off, twisting around a few times to look back before she vanishes.

"Preston, get out there and make sure they're gone and set up a perimeter so nobody walks in on this."

Garvey nods, and gives some quiet orders to the most armed settlers and a pack of them head off.

Em is still looking at the squalling baby inside the triangle of land mines. A few people around us twitch but nobody gives in to the temptation to ask, 'What are we going to do?'

After a minute, "...Shiloh?"

I hadn't noticed the ten year old but here she is, standing up from cover. She smiles a bright fierce grin. "I can do it!"

Now I can't resist speaking. "A _child_!"

"Shiloh's the lightest and she can get through practice mines without setting them off. Shiloh, cross the water and come around from… let's go up on the roof to get a better view."

I stutter, but only mentally. Em and her daughter climb to the nearest roof and point and talk about how to avoid vibrations on the dirt and cracked asphalt. I can't believe a little girl is going to approach land mines. It's clear she wants to do it—and everything I've seen shows how much Em loves her daughter.

Young Shaun settles behind the sandbags next to me, lounging like he's in a chair. "Don't worry, Scribe, she'll be fine. We practiced."

"You practiced with land mines?"

"Sturges made some that just make noise so Mom could practice, so we did too."

"In the Capitol there's a town we call Minefield because someone back before the war filled it up with mines."

"Has anyone been in it? Did they blow up?" Such normal _boy_ enthusiasm for the gruesome. Shaun really isn't worried about his sister; he waves as she and Em come down from the roof still talking strategy.

It's only been a minute or two but the baby's wails are getting tired and fretful. Em looks over at it and her lips press together.

"Mom, I'm going."

Em pats her daughter's hair and gives her shoulder a little push. And turns away. "Doc Jenna!"

Shiloh drops into the river, splashing across the irradiated water to come back up downstream of the road.

I look back to em and the doctor, who's just come rushing up with her doctor's bag. "Small dose stimpacks and Med-X, two blood packs, some warm corn bags. Kayna's milking the brahmin and Marci's bringing blankets. Anything else you can think of?"

"Can we give radaway to a baby? The mother looked like the glows."

They talk about this and Shaun asks me about Minefield. "The hero of the Capitol Wasteland went into Minefield but he said it's not that great. I think they're going to drive molerats through it to try to set off..."

Silence falls because Shiloh is visible again. She takes off her shoes and scoots forward very, very slowly, her feet barely leaving the ground. One slow step, pause, another nearly imperceptible motion. A bit of loose asphalt shifts and she freezes for what feels like a full minute before moving again.

Em's hands curl into tense claws. Shaun is perfectly still watching his sister. I don't think anyone around us is even breathing.

Shiloh is standing over the mines now. She starts to bend down, realizes she isn't positioned right, and straightens up again. She slides one foot between two of the mines, turns her body, and crouches down.

It takes her a long minute to get her arms under the baby but finally she straightens up, with the baby in an awkward deathgrip against her chest. It squalls and squirms.

There's a last terrible moment as Shiloh gets her feet clear. Then her shoulders relax and she slides slowly back. Three feet, five feet, at ten feet she leaps away, running off down the road. Almost out of sight I see her stop and bend over, trying to get the baby more comfortable in her skinny arms. It's still crying, still alive after its ordeal. Shiloh calls, "Ok Mom, I'm coming back!"

Em runs down to meet her, hugging the girl as she slogs out of the river. The baby is passed to Doc Jenna.

Shiloh says, "I checked, it's a boy. Can we call him Boomer?"

Relief sparks laughter in the settlers and everyone's gathering around Shiloh. A party is declared for tonight.

Em laughs and waves her hands for calm. "We need to do a wide patrol to make sure they're really gone and didn't leave any more surprises, and rebuild the bridge since I'm about to blow it up. But if someone wants to bake we can turn on the radio tonight and celebrate Boomer joining us."

Shiloh whoops in triumph and runs off to where Doc Jenna has taken baby Boomer. The clinic is all the way down the street so all I can see is the doctor's body language: calm and confidant. The baby must be doing all right.

Em talks into her pip-boy, telling Garvey that everything is all right here. The crackly reply is that the crazy raider and her friends cleared out and there's no sign they dropped any more mines.

"Good. I'm going to deal with these. Back, everybody! Eardrums!" She herds the whole population back, mostly by waving her elbows since her hands are busy fitting a longer silencer on the rifle she has slung down her back. Then without fanfare she sights and pulls the trigger. The three mines go up with a crash.


	7. Fresh Seafood

Fresh Seafood

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The bridge into Sanctuary must have once been sturdy enough to drive over, back when automobiles could move on their own. Today it's collapsing, patched with scrap wood just wide enough for a brahmin to traverse. The river around the bridge has been dredged deep to create a barrier against any intruders coming up the road.

Underneath, scraps of chain link fence have been cobbled together into a square cage half in the water. My first thought was that it was for punishment, confining malefactors in the foul water would certainly be a deterrent to crime. In fact the cage is full of mirelurk eggs that hatch into…

"Dinner!" Shiloh Mason carols. "Get ready in case one gets past me!"

She unwires a well-secured metal grate and the hatchlings race for freedom on their many legs. The unpleasant splashing skittering sound of a full grown mirelurk is the same in their offspring. Shiloh catches one in each hand and while she dispatches them another one escapes between her legs. "Get it, get it, Scribe!"

I'm on the riverbank but well placed to skewer the little monster with my knife. I hold it up and take the one Shiloh killed in my free hand. She re-secures the cage one handed, the last hatchling alive and squirming in her other hand.

"They're better if they're reeeeeally fresh. Here, hold it under the plate behind the head, like this. Now we go drop them in boiling water, cut up the meat… Mom says they taste like shrimp, whatever those are. Are the fish good to eat in the capital? The fish here are too toxic, but you have that 'Project Purity' thing cleaning your water..."

I have to confess that we still can't eat fish either.


	8. The Institute

The Institute

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"The Institute's plan?" Em takes a long swig from a bottle of whiskey. "Who knows. I've asked the current and past directors and they don't seem to know either. The Institute was sealed off the day the bombs fell, that's two hundred years for whatever goal the place originally had to mutate just like things mutated up here.

"What I have been able to figure out? The Institute was part of a college called MIT, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, back before the war. They had a high tech shelter and a plan to restore civilization in the Commonwealth after everything. The plan had to do with creating synths—the programming for synths had just been developed when the bombs fell—to explore and work the land. Synths can be repaired if they break and restored from data backups if they die, so they're better fit to wander in the glowing sea than you or I. I think originally synths were meant to live on the surface testing seeds bred to clean the soil for planting and restore prewar facilities so that when the radiation faded enough the scientists would have a functioning city to move into.

"Yes, synths were supposed to help people. But somewhere along the line someone decided that the more human a synth was the more useful it would be. A thinking synth could make decisions without having to report back for orders. So the new goal became making synths that are basically mechanical humans. The latest generation, you can't tell them apart from ordinary people."

I reach for the bottle and Em passes it over so I can fill my cup. It's whiskey, but watered down as I should have expected. Drunkenness is actually scheduled in Sanctuary to make sure no attack finds the whole settlement inebriated. I say, "We've all heard about it, synths replacing people..?"

"They do that. Did that. Not anymore. Even the previous director didn't really know the reason for replacing people. He said the goal was to test how well synths can pass as human, but that explanation doesn't make a whole lot of sense since they did it over and over, for years. I did hear a story, that the Institute was observing a trader when he was killed by a deathclaw. The watchers had become familiar with the man and felt sorry for his family who would likely perish without him. So someone brought his body in, copied his brain over, and returned him to the surface a synth with all the memories of the human he had been. That's supposed to have happened years ago and inspired the trend for replacing the dead. The motive was kind, but unfortunately when a synth realizes it's a synth and all its memories are from a dead person it tends to go berserk. The Institute was trying to adjust the programming so that wouldn't happen but they had to keep testing it… I know. None of it makes a whole lot of sense.

"Now, after the peace talks, the Institute is restructuring their synth production. They agreed to make only low level gen-one synths with combat inhibitors to do work on the surface. Any new gen-three synths will be programmed to know they're synths but they must be treated like full citizens and allowed to leave the Institute if they want—that's the compromise the Institute and the Railroad signed, anyway. I'm not sure the Institute will ever make another gen-three. What they'll do instead… I worry. I know the current director, she's a good sort, and I still worry."


	9. Concord

Begin Recording

Concord

Recording by Emily Mason

This is Emily Mason recording for Scribe Ellison. Where were we? Concord? My 'first adventure.'

The first thing I saw when I ventured over the bridge was death. A dog and a raider had killed each other quite recently. It was not an inspiring sight, though I would later strip the raider for his clothing and weapons.

Just outside of town is the Red Rocket—it's the caravan camp now but it looked just like everything else: rusty and abandoned. And that's where I met this guy! Don't know where he came from but he wagged his tail and pointed me at a first aid box first thing. Since then Dogmeat's saved my life more times than I can count, he saved Maya's life in that synth attack… I could sing this dog's praises forever but you want to hear what happened.

The terminal in the building was also interesting; it talked about the fabrication tools that we've been using ever since. It's all because of old Mrs. Rosa and her car—she's why the Red Rocket got the machine shop and it's her tools that let Sturges create everything he's made here.

Then monsters came out of the ground outside. I heard something, then Dogmeat barked and next thing I know we're under attack by these hideous wrinkly things. I thought they were dogs until we'd killed them all and I got a look at the teeth.

Mole rats were real, did you know that? Before the war. They were small like ordinary rats and didn't live here. I think they lived in Africa or maybe South America, and how they got here from there we'll likely never know.

After that I was very cautious. I was creeping along the road to Concord, so I got the drop on my first bloodbugs. I've done enough skeet shooting that they weren't too much of a problem. I guess I was used to giant bugs by then because I was more freaked out by the extra head on the cow they were eating.

In Concord I heard the first sign of human life. Gunshots, of course. Saw some dead raiders and walls of sandbags too. Someone had been fighting here long enough to build fortifications? I ducked down behind one when I got a look at the ongoing fight.

Raiders, at least a dozen, were shooting up at the Museum of Freedom where someone was shooting back. I didn't know what raiders are at this point, remember, so I wanted to observe and make sure of which side I should be supporting.

Then a raider found me and that became clear real quick.

And that would've been the end of my adventure right there if it hadn't been for Dogmeat, and for Preston in the museum giving me covering fire. But we took down those raiders.

That was the first time I killed a human being, and I don't remember it. It was like the bloatflies in Sanctuary, things were coming at me and I reacted and shot back and then people were dead. I didn't feel bad about it, which surprised me later on. But they could've run. They kept attacking me and I killed them and never felt bad about that. Plenty of other things, but not that.

I didn't have much time to think, since Preston was yelling down to me from the museum balcony. His little band of settlers was pinned on the top floor by another dozen raiders inside the museum and Preston was ready to call any stranger for help. And I was ready to help a person who talked instead of shot at me. He pointed me at a laser musket left by a fallen minuteman and I grabbed it and opened the doors.

I'll spare you a blow by blow of the museum. I shot a lot more people. I was so buzzed on sheer terror that my memory is fragments—the red blasts from the laser musket, the creepy mannequins still in their costumes, Dogmeat grabbing raiders, blood and slaughter.

At last I got up to the room where the settlers were trapped. A black man in a long coat and hat holding a laser rifle, a man in overalls banging frantically at a terminal, a young man sitting crumpled with his head in his hands, a woman pacing and radiating anger, and an old woman sitting serenely on a sofa.

Preston greeted me with, "Man, I don't know who you are but you really saved our butts."

"Glad to help." I said cautiously.

"Good, 'cause we could use some more." Preston explained they'd left Quincy with twenty settlers but only these five remained. they'd survived a feral ghoul attack and made it here and now they were trapped.

Sturges turned away from the terminal to explain they'd found a crashed vertibird with a suit of power armor in it on the museum roof. If we could get the armor and the minigun off the vertibird we could take out the rest of the raiders. And there were a lot of raiders, more coming. But we needed the fusion core that was running the building to power the armor so someone had to get into the basement to get it. Sturges was trying to unlock the door but the terminal wasn't cooperating.

The plan sounded… well, crazy, but I had no better one and I was now trapped with the five of them without enough ammo to shoot my way out. So we'd try it.

The three other survivors looked… it frightened me, how they looked. I asked their names and the young man just started crying, apologizing endlessly. The woman pacing like a caged animal paused to tell me how I was going to get them all killed.

You've met Jun and Marci—they run the caravan camp now, arranging schedules and locations so we know who's coming and where they are, and making sure there's security to protect the caravans from attack and theft while they're here. Finding a calling helped them get back on their feet, and having Maya helped a whole lot more.

Dogmeat had plopped himself down by the feet of the old woman with a scarf on her head. She looked up at me with pale strange eyes.

"He's your dog?" I hoped she'd say no, honestly. I'd really gotten attached to the guy in the few hours since I'd met him.

"Dogmeat? Oh no. He's a free spirit, what you call his own man. He chooses his friends and he chose you. He'll stick by you now. I saw it." Her voice was faded, like her eyes.

"Saw it?"

"It's the chems, kid. They give old Mama Murphy the sight. I can see what was… what will be… even a bit of what is, right now. And I see something is coming. It hears the shots, the shouting, and it's… angry. But I can't see what it is. Just—it ain't no raider." Her eyes were wide and she nodded sagely. I tried to ask what it could be, but she just reminded me that I had a job to do.

I didn't know what to make of Mama Murphy and her 'sight.' Honestly, Scribe, I still don't. She sometimes seems to know things—but she takes a lot more chems than I'd like. She says she's an old woman and can make her own choices and I can't really argue with that.

So I went down to the basement and found the fusion core and then it was time to find this power armor. Preston pointed me to the roof access and there it was. Just standing there, upright, like some kind of mummy or monster in a movie. It was old, rusty brown. I'd only ever seen power armor new and shiny marching in the Veteran's day parade. Never worn any, of course. Even Nate didn't wear power armor during his time as a soldier.

I passed it and climbed into the vertibird wreck. There was the minigun, looking a lot better preserved than the armor. And there were the raiders gathering down below. A lot of raiders. They started yelling and shooting the moment they saw me looking down from the roof.

I scrambled back and looked at the power armor, quite possibly me only hope at that point. I knew how to get in, from TV. The fusion core goes in the obvious port, then the back opens and step in. I did, and the armor locked closed around me. It smelled like rust and age, and was weirdly heavy with a slight lag as it moved with me. I climbed back through the crashed vertibird and wrenched the minigun off its mount. I tested the weapon by aiming down and turning a raider into red mist. My stomach lurched at the sight, even from that distance. I wanted the rest of them to run away. _Badly_ wanted the rest of them to run. But they didn't, even after seeing what I'd just done to their comrade.

That feeling, it's been with me ever since, every time I face a band of raiders. I hate killing people. I've killed more than I can count and I always wish they'd just talk to me, or at least run away, something so I wouldn't have to kill them. But raiders almost never run, usually they're so hopped up on psycho I don't think it occurs to them.

So I had no choice but to wipe out these people, it was that or they'd kill us all. So I blasted as many of them as I could from the roof and then jumped down to hit the rest.

Jumping off the roof of a three story building managed to _also_ be terrifying along with everything else that was terrifying me. I know Brotherhood knights jump out of vertibirds in their armor all the time, I've done it, but I hadn't done it _then_. I'd seen people on TV do it, soldiers doing stunts to show off the capabilities of the armor, but that's not much when you're looking down off a building.

I jumped anyway. Landed between two raiders who immediately opened up on me and adrenaline kicked in and the world narrowed to my targets.

The street shuddered under my armored feet.

I hardly noticed over the minigun roaring in my hands but suddenly the street tore open and this… _thing_ climbed out. It was twice my height, hunched over, huge horns and claws. I saw it pick up a raider and toss him against a building. Then it came for me.

I remember every detail. It picked me up and slammed me into the ground, bit the leg of the armor, then turned to go after another raider, giving me just enough time to get up and aim the minigun at it. I poured bullets into the thing as it ran towards me. It finally fell, just before it would have fallen _on_ me. I stumbled back, opened the blood-spattered power armor and fell out of it, and threw up bile in the street. The monster was still twitching but there wasn't enough left of it to get up again.

There were no more raiders. Between me and the monster the street was empty. I staggered back to the museum, slowly getting myself together. I did feel a weird sense of triumph on top of everything else. I had saved Preston and his friends, whatever else had just happened.

They were waiting in the museum lobby. Dogmeat ran up to me wagging his tail. Preston greeted me with, "That was a pretty impressive display. You saved our lives, Em."

"What are you all going to do now?" I asked, petting the dog and feeling instantly a little better. I ached from the weight of the armor, and I was hungry and thirsty.

"Mama Murphy's had visions of a place called sanctuary, an old neighborhood that we could make new! Why don't you come with us?"

Mama Murphy broke in, "You can help us! You need to stay strong—there's more to your destiny, I've seen it!"

"My destiny?"

"You are a woman out of time, out of hope. But I can feel your son's energy. He's alive!"

I didn't know whether I believed in Mama Murphy, but her words made the hair on my arms stand on end. "Shaun's alive? Where is he?'

"I wish I knew, kid. But I can't see him, just feel his life force, his energy. But I don't need the sight to know where you should start looking: the great green jewel of the Commonwealth, Diamond City! Maybe later you'll bring me some chems and I'll be able to see clearer."

Preston said, "Mama Murphy, we've talked about this, that junk's gonna kill you."

"Everybody's gotta die sometime. And we're going to need the sight, you and our new friend. Now let's go! Sanctuary awaits!"

It took a little longer to move out; Jun Long had collapsed again and Marci snapped at Mama Murphy about why they should believe visions somebody had while stoned out of her mind and Sturges had to calm her down.

"Sanctuary is real." I said, "Sanctuary Hills. It was my home."

Marci gaped at me, which was more satisfying than it should have been.

Preston said, "Well then, lead the way?"


	10. The Walk Home

Begin Recording

The Walk Home

Recording by Emily Mason

I had a hundred questions for Preston, starting with, "Who were those people? Why did they attack us?"

Marci answered, "Because they're raiders, you vault bimbo."

Preston gave her a patient look. "There are people who'd rather take from others than build for themselves. We call them raiders."

Marci added, "Chemheads and inbred twits." Which Preston nodded agreement with.

"Raiders are a threat everywhere in the Commonwealth. If they'd caught us they would've stripped us of everything we had and probably hauled us back to their camp to work as slaves. Us guys to work, you women for..."

Marci snarled and stopped walking just long enough to pull up her trouser leg to show me the hilt of a knife in her boot. I nodded to her. I was the lone female partner in a law firm; no matter how much Marci didn't like me I could still feel some women's solidarity.

We passed the body of the monster then, and I couldn't help myself—I ducked back to put Marci and Preston between myself and the corpse. I'd emptied the minigun into it so it was now just a pile of flesh and bullets but I couldn't stop thinking it might get up again. "What is that thing?"

"A deathclaw."

"But what...is it?"

Preston shrugged. "People talk about mutated lizards but who knows. With luck that's the only one you'll ever see."

That was not the only one I've ever seen.

At least Marci also made a wide path around the thing, then she had to go back and get her husband.

Preston told me then about their son's death during the flight from Quincy, which made both the Longs make a lot more sense. Then he asked how I knew about Sanctuary. So I told him about the bomb and the vault and my son. "I'm going to look for him, but I'll help you all settle in first. We're going to need a place to live after all."

"Well I am glad you've decided to join us."

From behind us I heard Mama Murphy encouraging Jun Long. Glancing back I saw she'd tucked her arm through his both for support and to keep the poor man moving. Maybe once they got a safe place to live he'd come back from whatever dark pit in his brain he's trapped in. Sturges hurried up to walk with Preston and me.

"Miss Em, what can you tell us about this place we're going? Mama Murphy's long on promises but short on details."

The three of us were already making plans when we reached the bridge.


	11. Treasure

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Treasure

Elder, you should have received with this recording a small package. I'm sure you will understand why I spent the caps to hire extra guards for the caravan carrying it; this is something we've been unable to find in any library in the Capital. Now I'll tell you how I came to have it.

The four older children of Sanctuary were summoned to help with a project at Abernathy Farm and I accompanied them. We made it down the hill without encountering any monsters, only some radstags off in the distance which Jimmy called "Future dinners." Which led to me asking how they'd find the herd again to hunt them. It turns out the local Brotherhood patrols will watch for herds of brahmin and radstags and report their location to the nearest settlers, who then go out and get dinner.

The Abernathy family has built a practical multilevel home around a power pylon, and carved out a productive farm around it, growing mostly tatos and melons, with a big mutfruit plot behind the house. Water comes from a well and the place is guarded by a phalanx of chugging turrets.

The new field has been marked out with stakes in the ground and Blake Abernathy is hitching up two of the farm's five brahmin. One of the brahmin is a new calf, still wobbly on its skinny legs and the kids are immediately off to see it. I'm more interested in Mr. Abernathy's harness. He's got a wide wooden yoke over the shoulders of the two brahmin, attached by chain and wooden poles to a small plow.

I've seen people try this, the "Republic of Dave" made some serious attempt to get their brahmin to pull a plow, but this time it actually seems to be working. Mr. Abernathy turns the two beasts and positions them, this takes a while since neither brahmin seems entirely happy to be attached to the other. A brahmin already has two heads to disagree; attaching them together results in four heads disagreeing and I expect them to pull the yoke apart and go their separate ways. Instead we get mooing from four mouths but the brahmin eventually get into place. Everybody has gathered around to watch.

"Now I just lean on the plow and… Gwim, Graceful, walk on!"

The brahmin stamp and take a few steps forward, then they're pulling ahead, dragging the plow through the soil. Mr. Abernathy leans hard on the handle on his end, and they make it to the end of the row. Everyone cheers. The children, both from Sanctuary and the Abernathy daughter Lucy, jump in to pull rocks out of the newly cut furrow, and break up clods of dirt with shovels. This is what they were summoned to do. I expect I'll end up taking a turn on the plow; I can guess it's hard of the person who has to keep it straight while holding it down.

"Don't celebrate yet, I have to turn them!" Blake laughs. "And this is hard! Somebody better spell me later!" he lines up for the next pass.

I ask Connie Abernathy, "How did you do it? I've heard of brahmin pulling carts but never seen it happen. And I've never seen a plow work so well!"

Connie's face glows with pride. "I found a book, in an old museum about how they did it in ancient times, long before the war. I've been putting yokes on Gwim and Graceful since they were born, always each one on the same side. Their names are important too, one has to be longer but I don't know why. As for the plow, Sturges made that for us. He said there was a perfect angle for the metal piece that digs into the ground so he did a lot of math and made one."

The second row is finished, to another round of whoops and Blake happily growling at everyone to stop scaring the brahmin and get back to work. The newly cut furrows need to be cleared of rocks and enriched with fertilizer from the stinking pile of dung rotting at the bottom of the hill. Pitchforks and shovels are being passed around to every able bodied adult and I accept one also. "Mrs. Abernathy, could you possibly record what you know about plowing? I can think of several people in the Capital who would pay for your knowledge!" All of you at Arlington were, of course, on my mind, as was the grand dame of Megaton.

Connie smiled and vanished into the farmhouse, reappearing with a small book made from homemade paper stitched together with thread. "I've made three of these so far. Consider this part payment for everything the General wants to trade for."

I opened the book long enough to see that it included pictures of how to measure a brahmin for a yoke and the math to make the plow. Then I wrapped the precious book and got to work.

Please set my fellow scribes to making copies as soon as possible.


	12. Behemoth

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Behemoth

The siren ringing the red alert jerks me from concentration on the pipe pistol I'm trying to fit a bigger magazine onto. I drop the weapon as Jimmy races past. The boy is so pale his freckles stand out on his face. "Behemoth! Behemoth! Greenies, fifty of them, they have a behemoth! Mom!"

Em rushes out of her house, already calling back, "Where?"

"Coming to the ford, they'll be here in a few minutes!" the boy stutters.

Em nods and bellows, "Just like a drill, people, you know where to go! Get to your posts!"

The fearful mob of settlers becomes a purposeful mob, scattering to guard posts or up to the vault. Sturges quite calmly rolls up a garage door, revealing two suits of power armor. One is pink.

I hear a bang and a cloud of red smoke streaks the sky above us. Distress signal. Preston Garvey runs from setting it off and calls, 'We'll have support soon!" He climbs into the plain suit of armor.

"Scribe, get to the vault!"

"I can fight!"

Em nods, "Sniper post, up there.'

I climb to the roof where there's a sandbag crescent, a rifle under a waterproof tarp, and a cooler with water and four doses of jet, and a radio. The enemy hasn't come into sight, but there's a stirring of dust at the edge of my vision.

"Mom!" I hear, and look back.

Shaun and Shiloh have interrupted their mother as she fits a minigun onto her pink power armor. I hear Shaun say, "We can help."

Hesitation, then, "Shaun Michael Mason, Shiloh Ann Mason, one-four-three-seven-two-eight."

"Thanks Mom!" The two children race out of sight. they're not going to fight are they? Not against-

Oh god.

Here they come. The behemoth towers over the crowd of super mutants urging it on with cattle prods. I've never seen a behemoth, the thing is massive, misshapen, with huge knotted shoulders and a tiny head that whines in pain at the shocks its getting.

The sharp crack of a rifle jolts me out of my moment of frozen fear. I hunker down and put my eye to the rifle scope, sighting on the behemoth's head. Crack! I miss. Or maybe I hit the thing's shoulder and it didn't notice.

they're still at quite a range, but I hear more rifles crack and the front rank of greenskins start to bellow in confusion and go down. The radio crackles, "Get the bombers! Look for flashing on its hand! We'll take out the behemoth!"

Flashing hand? I skim over the enemy with the rifle's scope. There! It's holding a bomb? Somebody else takes that one out. I look for the next flash.

Then the super mutants charge and everything dissolves into chaos. I fire again and again. There's an explosion, then another one. Shouting humans, bellowing mutants and the howling of the reluctant behemoth. The huge thing comes crashing towards us and the two suits of power armor come lumbering out to meet it. And I can't _watch_ because there are greenskins in the street going for the other snipers on their rooftops. Turrets open up in every direction and I have just enough thought to hope friendly fire really is impossible for them.

I have to reload. My hands work and my eyes glance up. Em and Garvey are cutting a swath through the horde, miniguns blazing. Green bodies fall around them but they haven't reached the behemoth.

A missile whines and blows, sending Garvey to the ground. Through the radio I hear, "I'm fine… my ears are ringing..." He rolls over and swings his gun around to cut the enemy off at the knees.

My rifle is loaded. I see a mutant reaching to pull itself onto the roof opposite me. I shoot it in the back and it falls.

The behemoth stamps and roars. I look.

Young Shaun is there, suddenly right next to the behemoth. He reaches out for its leg, ducks away, and runs.

The behemoth's leg explodes.

He put a _mine_ on-

The monster howls and staggers, I can see the white bone in its leg but it doesn't fall. Em charges the thing.

I swing my rifle—where is Shaun?-he's trying to get away but there are still greenies upright. I fire frantically, I don't find the boy—there he is! A mutant with a hammer looms over him. I shoot it but the hammer falls, smashing the boy's leg.

Then a Brotherhood vertibird roars overhead and we're saved. Four paladins in armor jump down, one hitting the mutant like a freight train and stomping it into mush. Shaun is up somehow, grabbing his rescuer's armor and hanging on. They flee the field and the snipers clear the way for them.

So I don't see how the behemoth finally gets taken out, just hear the crash as it hits the ground.

And then it's over. The last few greenies still on their feet flee, right into the arms of three troops of minutemen. The siren shifts to ring warning. I stay at my post, now able to relax enough to feel really awful, sweaty and sore from aiming, sick as the adrenaline wears off. I get a carton of water from the cooler and drink.

Who's hurt? Who's dead? Did Shaun make it? He shouldn't have been there. In the Brotherhood we have rules about apprentices and squires in combat and I feel a little sick in an entirely different way as I realize Em, who I quite like, disagrees with me on this vital subject. How can I respect her if she puts her own children in danger?

At last the siren rings the all clear and I climb stiffly drown from the roof to join the chaos of mopping up. We have to locate any greenskins that are down but not dead and put them out of their misery, and collect their weapons and any explosives they may have left behind. The water purifier was damaged and needs repair, the turrets need to be reloaded and the rooftop sniper rifles checked. And the bodies should be collected as soon as possible. that's what's waiting for everyone who's still uninjured.

Two suits of power armor are powering down. Garvey cracks his first and is giving orders before he even reclaims his Minuteman coat and hat.

Shiloh shows up to help her mother out of the pink power armor as the Brotherhood armors come clanking over. Em groans, holding her shoulder. "I'm all right. How many dead?"

"None! But Doc says Tom might lose his leg, he got hit by shrapnel." Shiloh tells her.

"None?" The General wobbles as if almost collapsing from relief.

They're at the center of a whirl of activity but it's almost happening without them. I'm the only one without an assigned task so I hang back waiting to be drafted but not wanting to intrude. But I can't get the image out of my mind. "Is Shaun-?"

One of the Brotherhood armors grates, "He's receiving medical attention. He'll be fine, Scribe."

Em says, "Danse, come out of there and reset my shoulder. The Doc's busy."

The Brotherhood armor opens and a lean man in the orange jumpsuit meant to be worn under power armor gets out, stretches, and turns to help his friend. I flinch at the crack, the sound familiar from training. A dislocated shoulder is the most common injury to people wearing power armor in battle, I've had it so I know exactly how much it hurts.

When I look back, Danse is saying, "You want to wrap it over your suit or disrobe in public?"

Em makes a pained laugh. "Just wrap it and stick me with a stimpack, Doc Jenna can redo it later. I don't have time to go change."

While under care the General keeps talking to people as they pass by, asking how many bodies they've found and what parts of town still need to be checked for explosives and how everyone at the hospital is doing. She notices me watching and sends me out to join half the town in gathering dead greenies for disposal.

Our orders are confusing, at least to me: the dead super mutants are to be collected and chained together at the ankles, with chains provided. A few of us settlers together can haul a dead greenie over to its comrades and get them chained up. We make a few grisly bouquets and then get to work raking up the remaining… bits. A few settlers throw up as they do this, and since I don't blame them I'm not going to mention names. Shiloh Mason and Kaynah pass out rakes. "It's gross, but we'll get yao guai sniffing around if we don't clean up right away."

"Shiloh, how's your brother?" I ask.

"He's ok, he'll be back soon. Wasn't he _cool?_"

"There is nothing cool about putting children in danger!" I snap, and immediately regret the tone fueled by my general nausea.

Shiloh gives me a condescending look that does not help. "He wasn't in _much_ danger, Scribe, he knew the vertibird was coming. But it's nice of you to worry."

Kaynah catches my eye and shrugs. Even among wasteland children, Shiloh is a bit weird. My concern remains, about the General's treatment of her children, but that is not something to be pursued when I must pursue raking a severed hand out from between rocks without touching it.

The bits and pieces are piled with wood and dried brahmin dung and set on fire. The whole bodies will face a more interesting fate that I don't get to see until evening. Dinner is being cooked, the smell mingling unpleasantly with the stink of the battle and stench from the burning body parts. Thankfully no settlers are on pyres; our position as defenders mostly on rooftops and the warning Jimmy gave us let the settlement escape with only a few serious injuries and many minor ones.

The General is talking with Paladin Danse and the vertibird pilot near the other side of the bridge. The vertibird is parked there, quite near where we left the chained bouquets of bodies.

"Scribe!" Em calls, waving. She sounds quite cheerful for someone who probably still has a badly aching shoulder. "You don't weigh much. Come see what we do with the bodies!" Danse gives me a brief crack of a smile.

So I board the vertibird with them and we put on harness so we don't fall out since none of us are in power armor. I hear clanking as I get my harness on, but it's not until the bird roars into the air that I see what they've done.

The dead mutants have been chained and the chains clipped to the vertibird. The takeoff is slow, since we're dragging a whole string of bodies, but they weigh only as much as six men in power armor so we soon get above the trees.

The wasteland spreads below us. I see the line of power pylons with Abernathy Farm built around one, the lake to the west of Sanctuary, and the thicker forest to the north. South of us the skyscrapers of Boston gleam dully in the distance.

Em leans out the side of the craft, half out the door hanging by her harness and a handhold in the ceiling. The wind is pulling her hair free from her bun and her expression is filled with joy. Danse is watching her, not the view.

The pilot calls, "How much farther?"

"Turn a little more south, you're looking for a movie screen and a big parking lot."

We turn, and fly a little further and I see the remains of an old drive-in movie theater down below. I know what this is because I've seen pictures: a movie would be projected on the big screen and prewar people drove their cars to watch it for entertainment. The parking lot is scattered with the dead hulks of cars, and even from so far up I can see the telltale mounds indicating a mole rat nest below.

"Pilot, get right overhead and let 'em drop!"

The pilot looks back, "You want the bodies… Ooh, I see! You got it, General! Everybody hold on! We're going to go straight up when I drop the weight!"

I tighten my harness and Em gets into a seat and attaches her harness to it. "Ready? Ready!"

"Three, two, one-"

Something clanks and the vertibird jerks upward and wobbles alarmingly. I clench my teeth and hang on. After a moment or two though, we're stable again and the vertibird swings around to give us all a good look at what's happening down below.

The piles of bodies have fallen right on top of the molerat nest and the rats are already boiling out to devour them. Blood and scraps are flying. It's a disgusting sight, but also inspiring.

"You're farming them!"

"We can't eat greenies, but we can eat molerats! And this way we don't get guai on our doorstep. Next trip we'll drop the behemoth. I'm going to invite Jimmy along since he warned us."

We turn to fly home.


	13. The Synth Question

The Synth Question

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Do synths really have free will?"

"That's the question isn't it." Em says. "That's half of why we nearly had a war here. Another war. Some synths certainly seem to. My friend Nick, he's as human as I am but the Institute scientists would say he's just a malfunctioning machine."

I offer, "That's quite poetic. To a machine, humanity would be a malfunction."

"Synths don't need to eat or sleep, they don't get sick and if they get damaged they need repairs because their bodies don't heal like ours do. They can't have children, obviously, and they don't grow older. Some have skills… a lot of them are very good with a gun, for one thing! But there has never been a synth who painted a picture or wrote a book or composed a symphony. Maybe there will be one tomorrow, but there hasn't been one yet."

"It doesn't sound like you think they're human, General. But I understood that in the peace talks you forced the Institute to free its Gen-3 synths. Why?"

"Maybe I have hope for that symphony." She smiles. "And a bit less poetically, it seemed better to err on the side of survival on such a complex issue. Gen-3s can't be told from humans most of the time. Whether they really do have free will or souls or whatever it is that makes a person a person, that's something for scientists to figure out… or maybe priests. But they seem to be people so they should be treated like people. Even some of the scientists who create synths believe that. You didn't know there were Institute insiders helping the Railroad? Yep.

"In the peace talks the Railroad took responsibility for all free Gen-3 synths choosing to leave the Institute. So now it's the Railroad kidnapping people—people who are synths and didn't know it. They restore the synths' memories in a controlled location and let them decide what they want to do with their lives. The Institute provides combat inhibitors to be installed in any synth that doesn't trust their own mind, or that looks a little unstable. Running around the Commonwealth physically unable to defend yourself isn't great, but its better than being a threat to everyone else."

I can't help saying, "That's horrible! People who never knew they were synths?"

Em sighs. "I know. We searched for a better option, the leader of the Railroad and the Institute's production team and I—not together, since Desdemona won't speak to anyone from the Institute, but separately. But synths do become violent when they realize they're synths, it's a programming glitch related to stress and neither the Institute nor the Railroad knows a way to fix it. So the only way to make a Gen-3 safe is to strap it down and tell it what it is. It's traumatic and cruel and nobody's found a better way. At least with the Railroad in charge of synths they're being kidnapped by people who respect their independence and want what's best for them."

"And there haven't been any synth rampages since the peace talks. It'll be years before the ordinary people of the commonwealth will accept synths as neighbors, but we'll get there."


	14. The Replacement

Begin Recording

The Replacement's Tale

"Scribe, I've got a holotape for you. The leader of the Railroad gave it to me, she wanted to make sure the rest of the Brotherhood in the Capital knows… something. I haven't listened to it."

"Can we listen to it now?"

"Don't see why not, since I've given it to you. I'm curious what the message is."

I take the holotape and load it into my recorder. It's a voice log and I hit play.

The first sound we hear is labored breathing, clattering and clanks as of people moving around in the distance. Then a voice: "You'll send this? To everyone? The Minutemen, the b\Brotherhood of Steel, everyone? They should know. They should know what it's like."

It sounds like the voice of someone who knows what it's like to mix jet and mentats and not sleep for a week, but we keep listening.

"They should know why you wanted to destroy the Institute. Wasn't the General angry? I heard her shouting about children, children in the Institute, she threw the bomb back in your face. She thinks she can trust the Institute. I'll tell you all what the Institute does.

"Imagine waking up and realizing you're not you. The memories you have, someone else made those memories. The things you're proud or ashamed of, someone else did those things. Not you. Your wife fell in love with someone else, someone else fathered your child. But you're not that person. You're a blank, you're nobody, you're nothing. Your head is full of stuff you don't know where it came from. You know how to do your job even though you never did it. So you do it. Because what else can you do?

"It comes on slow. At first you just feel a little strange, like why am I here, I have no reason to be here. Then it's a few more things, your clothes aren't yours, your gun ain't yours, you don't know how you know your way around town. The family stuff's last, because your brain won't accept it I guess. Realizing I wasn't really my daughter's father.

"And then there's what's going on, am I losing my mind? Did I get hit on the head, or catch a fever that baked my brain? Maybe you go see a doc but he says nothing's wrong. But you know something is. And then slowly you realize what must be going on. It's true, you're not you. Really not you. You're a synth, a machine. The real you is dead and you're just a replacement, and you don't know how or why or even when it happened. How long have you been dead? Certainly before your little girl was born since a synth can't father a child. Maybe she never met her real father but how would you know? So you maybe start asking, maybe someone noticed a change but if they realize you're a synth you'll be killed but maybe that's all right.

"And sometime it occurs to you that if you were a synth and didn't know it then anyone else might be a synth too. Maybe they all are. Maybe they all do know it, and if you ask them in the right way, like with a gun pointed at their head, they'll tell you when you died and how many of the people around you are dead too…

"And then if you're really lucky someone from the Railroad finds you and offers to clear the old dead memories from your head so you can start fresh and be someone real this time. Soon I'll be rest and I can find out who I really am. A synth, but one who knows he's a synth and can decide what to do with his own existence. Of course I'll be hunted forever by Institute coursers trying to haul me back and erase whatever I am and fill me up with another set of dead memories and put me who knows where until I start to realize again. Maybe next time I won't get found before I point a gun at someone just to make the world make sense. I don't want to hurt my little girl! I know she isn't mine, I'm just a copy of her Papa and she's better off without me but I'd never want to hurt her!

"That's what the Institute did to me. That's where they put me. They knew this might happen! It's happened to other synths! Maybe it's happening to other synths out there right now. That's why we had to destroy the Institute. They make people like this and nobody knows why. Maybe they don't even know why. Maybe they don't even have a reason. The General should have put that bomb on their reactor, just blown the whole place up. Then nobody else would ever have to feel the way I feel right now. When I get reset, it'll be better but I'll forget everything about my daughter. Desdemona says she'll give this to the people in power, it's my last request before I forget about this. So whoever you are, remember the Institute makes people like me. Maybe you can stop them, so please, please save people like me and my family. Destroy the Institute."

There's a click and a long sigh. A woman's voice says, "Good. That's good. Thank you, R5-96. Do you want to record anything else, for when you wake up? You can pick a name for yourself if you want."

The recording ends then.


	15. Sanctuary

**This story theme song: "Foreign Land" by Desert Star, a youtuber I follow chose this song as her intro and I thought it fit the Sole Survivor's journey through the wastes.**

**Also I'm having second thoughts about a story made up of first-person perspectives from two different people that don't happen in order, and in some chapters include both present and past tense and quotes within quotes. It flows for me since I always know who's talking, but will it flow for you readers? Brand new #writerproblems to wrestle with! **

**I also fear my limited knowledge of the game is going to trip me up; I played to level 60 (over 4 years!) but abandoned the main quest when I realized it was impossible to do what Em did in the story and get all the factions sat down around a table working out a solution that didn't involve killing loads of innocent-ish people. And I'm starting a new playthrough for the novelization chapters, but please have mercy on my inevitable slipups!**

Begin Recording

Sanctuary

Recording by Emily Mason

The elders really want to hear the whole story of building everything? Half practical, half oral history project? I guess I am a unique case. All right, I'll try to get the first month or two of setup onto one holotape. It'll be a long one though! We were staggering back from Concord...

It was dark when we got to Sanctuary, and Cogsworth met us at the bridge. "Mistress Emily, who are your guests?"

"These are my new friends. Preston Garvey, Sturges, Jun and Marci, and Mama Murphy. They're going to be moving into the neighborhood."

"My goodness! Welcome to Sanctuary Hills! I'm afraid we're far from ready for guests, the floors haven't been swept, I did try but..."

Marci interrupted, "How do you shut it up?" and walked past the dithering Cogsworth to check out the first house on the street.

At least Sanctuary was still clear of giant bugs and after the fight we were too tired to do more than bed down wherever we could.

I slept late; by the time I woke up Sturges and Preston had already gone back to Concord to retrieve the power armor and strip the bodies of the raiders. Mama Murphy was already browbeating the Longs into gathering useful items from the empty houses. Marci greeted me with a glare and some muttering about lazy vaulties.

I immediately derailed the whole day by telling them that the vault has clean hot water. Useful tasks were abandoned in a stampede towards hot showers.

While we waited for our turns I showed Preston the vault and we talked about my trip to Diamond City.

I was a lawyer; my working hours were spent mostly sitting on my rear. I did work out, a self defense class for ladies every weekend and the gym when I could fit it in, to keep my figure, but all that went on hold when I got pregnant. So for a lawyer who just had a baby I was in good shape, but to walk miles of monster-infested wasteland… I wouldn't have lasted a day. So Preston recommended I wait and travel with a caravan instead of going alone.

In the meantime there was a lot to do. The settles had big plans. I think Sturges spent the whole walk up from Quincey planning what he'd do with a neighborhood like this.

We needed shelter of course, so we needed to pick up crowbars—or put on power armor—and take apart the collapsed houses to salvage boards for patching up the buildings that were still standing. Everything else I knew we'd need for firewood if we wanted to cook anything, and not die when winter came. Preston also recommended taking down all the dead trees to better see anyone coming towards the settlement. Also dead trees blow down unpredictably and we didn't want them to wreck anything.

We also needed defense for the whole settlement. "It's not a question of if those raiders find us, it's a question of when. We need to be ready."

Before the war, when everyone was worried about the Chinese invading, the neighborhood association of Sanctuary Hills decided to make a plan for defending the neighborhood. They asked my husband Nate to make the plan since he'd just recently come back from the military. Nate thought the whole thing was silly—what good would it do to defend a neighborhood if all the towns around it were taken? But since it would make our neighbors feel better to have a plan he promised he'd take it seriously and do a good job. So he and I walked around the neighborhood and Nate pointed out the weakest points: the bridge and the shallow part of the river at the other end of the island. He made a map with notes about where to place 'defenses.' None of it was ever built of course; Nate presented it to the neighbors and they all felt better and never did anything about it and Nate put the map away. It was still there in a filing cabinet, the paper brittle but readable, and Preston thought it was great.

So we cobbled together some sandbag walls and guard posts out of scrap by the bridge and over there where the river widens and gets shallow enough to wade across easily. We've dredged it now, making that end of the island better protected. Sturges knew how to build turrets—and he did once we found enough circuit boards. That's what mostly protects Sanctuary now. They're wired into cameras all connected to a gen-1 synth brain that can recognize all of us, and the Minutemen flag. It's smart enough to recognize weapons and won't open up on raiders until they actually attack us. And that's why we don't have to worry about friendly fire!

But we didn't have the turrets at the beginning. We had six exhausted people with pipe pistols and a Mr. Handy trying to watch both approaches while we also really needed to be picking caterpillars off the melon leaves to avoid starving to death.

The next thing Sturges insisted on was some civilized beds. That was easy enough: we hauled mattresses from the vault and gathered every piece of fabric we could find for blankets.

We did all sleep in the same house until we put solid walls on all the houses, then set up separate households later. The Longs settled into the Russels' house until they moved to the caravan camp. Sturges had raptures over Mrs. Rosa's tools and claimed that house where he still lives with the apprentices-slash-family he's accumulated since then. Preston moved in next to me, Mama Murphy and Jimmy and Kayna live with him now. And I moved back into my old house. Which is strange now that I think about it, but it never occurred to me to live anywhere else.

Water we could haul from the vault, though Sturges had blueprints for a big industrial purifier that could clean river water. He did eventually build it, after hauling water gave all of us backaches for months and did a lot for my upper body strength.

Food was the next pressing need, and the one that took the most time. I'd gone through the houses, but now the six of us gave Sanctuary a very thorough search. We came up with a sizable pile of cans and other prewar food, but for long term we were going to have to farm.

This would have been almost impossible except that my neighbors all had victory gardens. So there might be vegetables out there buried in the dead trees and weeds. We just had to find them.

"Cogsworth, is my garden still… there?"

"Oh my yes, Mistress Emily. I tended it as well as I could, knowing how much you enjoyed growing vegetables for young Shaun."

The memory hit me. Nate had surprised me with a new Robco food processor so I could start canning my own baby food. I'd been big as a whale, on forced maternity leave and bored out of my mind. I filled a cabinet with jars, but they're now all over the floor broken from the bomb blast. "Let's see the garden."

It was so overgrown the edges had dissolved. The potted mint had escaped its pot and grown down to the stream. The carrots were still there, I recognized their tops. And in the middle of everything a small tree with misshapen purple fruit had grown up. I stopped, not sure I should even touch the strange tree, but nobody else shared my hesitation.

"Mutfruit!" Preston exclaimed.

"Mut… fruit?"

"Mutant fruit."

Sturges explained, "Packed with nutrients, grows like crazy. Best thing we could've found here. Try one!"

I picked one and took a cautious bite. Crisp like an unripe pear, not too sweet. "We can grow more of these?"

"That's the plan!" Sturges said happily, "Save the pit. What else is down here?"

"I planted carrots and tomatoes, I tried to have melons but they never took off. Mrs. Rosa had corn."

The three of us explored the yards while Mama Murphy and the Longs searched inside the houses. We found the remains of several other victory gardens, including some melons and very sickly corn. And gourds, rock hard and probably planted to be carved for Halloween but I was unhappily sure we'd find some way to cook and eat them. I'd never had pumpkin soup but I'd heard of it.

While hunting through the yards we found the greatest thing. The bomb shelter. I'd had no idea Mr. Jahani had a storm cellar much less built it into a bomb shelter. There was a mattress down there, and shelves and shelves of food and water. I don't know what happened to Mr. Jahani, he wasn't in the vault but it didn't seem like he'd used his shelter either because all the food was still there. He had ammunition too, and shovels and tools, and a radio. There were three gold bars too, and more money than I'd ever seen at the same time.

That was when I learned that bottle caps are money now. I only believed it when Marci told me; I could believe Preston was playing a joke, but not Marci. We used the paper money for kindling and the gold got melted down to make circuits or something, Sturges had some use for it and nobody would trade for them since the bars were so heavy. The real treasure down there wasn't the gold but the food, and the survivalist books Jahani had that told us how to distill wood alcohol and use the hydrogen engine in a car to make electricity. I remember the first day we got electricity, a car engine modified into a generator. It was so heavy I had to wear the power armor when I carried it into every house and hooked up every washing machine and refrigerator. Not a single one worked and we haven't been able to repair them. The vault is cold enough to keep meat in so we don't really need a fridge, but every Christmas I hope Sturges will make me a working washer.

While we spent our days from sunrise to sunset farming and building and shooting molerats for dinner Preston insisted the Longs and I should also go through the training for Minuteman recruits. I knew how to shoot skeet and at a target, but I didn't know how to clean and repair guns, or butcher meat, or build a fire without matches, or recognize useful wasteland plants. I also wasn't in the kind of shape I needed to be. So Preston put us through our paces and Marci hated every second of it and Jun went along with things with his eyes empty and I tried to learn all I could and work to exhaustion because I was distracting myself from my recent loss too.

I lost track of time. Every day was the same and we really were working ourselves to the bone. We needed more hands, and once we had crops growing well Sturges stuck a radio tower on a rooftop and had me record a message and we bet our lives that a couple of friendlies would hear it before the raiders did.

And they did. Tom turned up first, he could cook and he could shoot. Then our real prize, Doc Jenna on the run from Gunners who'd learned that she actually knew her stuff as a doctor and wanted her patching them up forever with chains on her ankles. Brenda and Moira, couple of defecting raiders, then Jimmy and his mother, then Bella. The rules were simple: work, learn, be ready to defend the settlement, and you can live with regular meals and clean water and know that the only violence will be coming from outside. And school. Mama Murphy can't do much work but she can read, so she reads to the farmers while they pull weeds and teaches anyone who wants to learn their letters. Everyone else teaches what they know, Sturges has apprentices and Doc Jenna has her nurses. If settlers show up unable to read Mama Murphy helps them learn their letters. She'll read to anyone whose hands are busy, so we all know some history and literature, whatever books we've been able to find. Soon the seven of us had become ten, then twenty, enough people to stand guard in shifts and still get the weeds pulled. Jonah caught the brahmin calf and got its mother in too, and then we had milk and cheese and fertilizer to keep the gardens growing.

And eventually we dug a long trench, up on the hill near the vault, and finally gave my neighbors a decent burial. I would have liked separate graves and markers, but a trench and a fencepost with all the names written on it was the best we could do. It was almost more than we could do. Cogsworth did some digging, and Preston helped, but I had to do most of it. I didn't blame them. Digging anything that wasn't a garden really was a waste of time and strength, but it was something I had to do.

It was only a few days after that that our first trader came in, a scavenger who called herself Trashcan Carla and came with a brahmin packed with scrap. She knew the way to Diamond City and didn't have any guards at the time, so she hired me on for the trip.

I remember waking up the morning we left, at first light I got dressed with a pistol on my belt, a knife in one boot, and a rifle slung over my back. I was bringing a pack and a dog. I washed my face, remembered teasing Nate about hogging the sink on the morning before the world ended. Same sink, same mirror, only now I was dipping water from a bucket I'd hauled down from the vault. And my face had changed. I'd lost all the softness from my face to hard work and scant food, my skin was tanned and my hair rough from using homemade soap. I didn't look like a mother anymore, I looked like a soldier. But I had a home to come back to, where I could be a mother again someday, so I could go forward as a soldier.


	16. A Case of the Glows

Begin Recording

A Case of the Glows

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I'm on guard, trying not to let my mind wander as I stare at the same view from the roof of the house nearest the bridge. Across the river bleak land slopes down into a sunset haze of distance. Behind me I can hear the bustle of the settlement.

I'm pondering—daydreaming really—ways to reach the Boston Public Library through the horde of super mutants when I see something coming up the road. A brahmin, but not carrying a massive pack, and a person walking beside it. Something is wrong.

I tun and call down, "Garvey! Someone's coming. One person, brahmin, no pack. I think the person's injured."

"Thanks, Scribe!" Preston Garvey hurries towards the bridge, pausing to get a warning whoop from the siren. The farmers below put down their rakes and head for their guard posts.

The brahmin comes into sight by the bridge and I see Dogmeat running out to meet it with Garvey running behind him. Then Garvey's supporting the staggering person—who's wearing a blue vault suit.

Even from up here I can see Em looks on her last legs. Garvey hollers, "Doc Jennaaaaa!"

"Coming!"

"General's soaked up a few rads."

I hear Em say, "A few." and she slaps the siren on her way past, ringing the all clear. She looks up and sees me, "Scribe, come get this brahmin!"

I rush down from the roof. Em is gray-faced and sunken-eyed, and her left hand is red and puffy. The bundle in the crook of her arm is a baby, a disturbingly silent baby. And then I realize what the brahmin is carrying. Two limp children, hanging onto a makeshift harness. They're patchy haired and skeletal. Advanced glows. _Long term_ glows. Even the brahmin has sores that hint it's been irradiated too.

Doc Jenna runs up, curses, and retreats. "Get them in here, I'll prep some radaway."

The hospital is the cleanest house in Sanctuary and the best repaired. It has real beds, and Doc Jenna hurriedly hangs radaway bags beside three of them. I help get the kids off the brahmin and get them inside. Neither of the children resists or really tries to do anything. They smell like waste and corpses, in addition to looking half dead. Doc Jenna looks over and says, "Scribe, you've been drafted. Get those filthy clothes off them. This would happen the one day my nurses are gone!"

I hesitate at the thought of undressing children, but their clothes are literal rags and foul. I grab some medical gowns from a bed and offer, "Hey you two, these will be more comfortable and let the Doc get a look at you. Come on, can you stand up long enough to get out of those stinky pants?"

We manage it, the two kids get changed without me having to do more than provide encouragement and hold up the clean robes. One is a boy and one a girl, but neither gives a name when I ask. They look like they haven't washed in a month.

Across the room Em gets her own sleeve up and scrubs the inside of her elbow with disinfectant. She lets Doc Jenna hook up the bag of radaway and lies back. "I was on rad-x the whole time. Gave it to them on the ride back for what that's worth. Don't think the baby's going to make it."

Doc Jenna nods. She turns and takes the still silent baby from Garvey. "Get on the radio, get my nurses back from Tenpines and call Carla and Doc Weathers. I think I have enough radaway but I'd pay more."

"You got it, Doc. I'll be back. Want to keep the scribe? I'll get someone else to his post."

I offer, "I've done the basic med course all the Brotherhood does." I didn't choose to be a medic, but I can help. I didn't choose to teach the children either but I attempt a comforting voice. "Hey, see that bag of medicine? You two need to have those too. The needle hurts a little but not much, see, the General's fine with hers."

Dogmeat comes in and Em frees her other hand to pet him. The two kids get a little life in their faces at the sight of the dog.

The boy says, "We don't want it." And the girl shakes her head and motions with her claw hands as if pushing away the medicine.

"It's just radaway, you'll feel a lot better."

"No. Don't take our glow."

I look at Doc Jenna who's approaching with two bags of radaway after settling the baby in a bed. She does not look inclined to listen to protests. "Children of Atom? Em, why'd you bring me bomb lovers?"

"We're universes, we hold a million universes, we can release so much life..." The boy mumbles. Ok, I've heard the nuts in Megaton but hearing those words out of a child who can't be more than ten and can't possibly know what he's saying is quite disturbing.

Em sighs a quiet, "Sorry Doc..."

"Ok you two, my friend just about cooked herself getting you here and I need to hook up your meds before I can look at your baby sister. Will you let me do it?"

They shake their heads, pleading.

I wonder if the doctor will tie them down. I hope she doesn't ask me to help.

Instead Em sits up and locks eyes with the girl then the boy. "I have a nuke mine. If you want your glow back next week you can set it off and sit by it and get sick again. I _promise_. So please let the doc fix you up for now."

The two children look at each other and I wonder if they're thinking about it or just too sick to actually fight against medical care. But maybe the promise does it because they relax and allow Doc Jenna to hook them up to radaway. She's gentle with them and talks about how tomorrow they'll be able to eat delicious food and take baths and play with the dog, which seems unlikely to me. "Patients, here's water, drink as much as you can. Scribe, can you keep an eye on everybody for a bit?"

"Sure." I say. I have chores, but none of those are as important as this.

Doc Jenna turns back to the baby, which starts crying finally then stops when it receives a bottle.

The door opens and Shiloh peeks in and whispers, "Mom?"

Em lifts her free hand and Shiloh tiptoes over and gives her mother a hug. "Mom, are you all right?"

"I feel awful and I was tossing my cookies all the way home but I'll be fine in a day or two. See? Pip-boy says no organ damage."

"What happened with the bomb lovers?"

"It didn't go very well." Em says with a tired grin. "I'll tell you tomorrow all right? And I have a mission for you. As soon as these two are up, show them how much fun we have—treats, toys, books. But remember they won't be very strong, so lots of food and games of Blast Radius and less hunting molerats or nagging the Paladins for vertibird rides."

Shiloh nods eagerly. "Bread and jam and the kittens at Abernathy's."

"Right. Now shoo, I have rads to sleep off."

"Ok. I love you, Mom."

"Love you too, baby."

When the little girl is gone I can't help asking, "Vertibird rides?"

"Danse took her on a patrol for her birthday. She wants to be the first Minuteman pilot now, for our air force of… zero aircraft." Em chuckles and closes her eyes.

I have heard a rumor: Paladin Danse is in love with the General of the Minutemen. Of course I've also heard the rumor: Paladin Danse is a synth and the elders are covering it up. Now is not the time to ask, when my conversation partner has dozed off.

Doc Jenna comes back in and says, "Scribe, can you keep watch for another few hours until my staff comes back from the raider attack at Tenpines? I'm putting diagnostic bands on these two, anything turns red you come get me."

"Glad to help." I say and settle down to wait.

An hour passes, Dogmeat leaves then comes back in and settles down under his mistress' cot, the doctor comes back through a few times, the children don't stir, and Em eventually wakes up. "Help me unhook this, I need the latrine. Where's the doc?"

"I'm sorry… the baby didn't make it. Doc Jenna fell asleep in her office and I didn't want to wake her."

"Damn. I didn't think she'd live, but… damn. These two?"

I motion to the diagnostic bands, which have the same medical monitoring function as the Pip-boy. Both kids have radiation poisoning of course, and the boy's kidneys are looking bad, struggling to clean his blood.

Em's up, unhooking the empty radaway bag from the needle in her arm. She stops to drink from the carton of purified water the doctor left, then heads for the bathroom. When she gets back I help her hook up another bag of radaway and she lies down again, checking her own vitals on her Pip-boy. After a while I hear, "Can't sleep. Got a holotape on you? I'll tell you what happened."

"I didn't kill their parents, scribe. That's the first thing I want to record! They were already orphans." Em says.

"I didn't go in planning to kill_ anybody_. The idea was to talk to the Children of Atom living at the site they call Crater House to see if I could convince them to stop shooting at provisioners headed to the lighthouse. I didn't think they'd have much to trade but I was hoping we could at least have a ceasefire.

"One of the caravans did meet a 'missionary' more interested in converting her than shooting her so we all got to hear the good word secondhand. A new prophet had come to Crater House, the true prophet who could drink the water and not get sick. He even glowed like a ghoul. That's the story Carla brought me. Carla also brought a flag someone could carry to show they were interested in being converted.

"Back before the war people would come to my door to spread the good word too, but it was a very different good word! Have you listened to the good word of Atom, Scribe?"

I admit I've heard a rant or two from the Megaton chapter of the cult but I haven't studied their beliefs. The official Brotherhood position is that the Children of Atom are just another lot of kooks, maybe a little more dangerous than some of the other lots of kooks.

We're in the hospital, across the room from the sleeping forms of two children who, like my hostess, are suffering through treatment for radiation sickness. The Megaton kooks may be a benign branch of a more serious problem.

"I got to the top of the road—Dogmeat came along, he warned me about the mines along the way but as soon as my pip-boy started clicking I sent him home. And took a rad-x.

"The road ends at a metal arch over the road, made of scrap. It was crowded with people in those raggedy clothes, all pointing guns at me. I held out the flag, and my hands, and called, "Just here to talk."

"They whispered to each other, I think they recognized me. After a minute their new prophet stepped forward. Big guy, piercing blue eyes and long beard and he'd got himself this long billowy robe. "I am Confessor Abraham, the prophet. What brings you to our church?"

"Nice to meet you, Confessor. I'm Em Mason, and I came to talk."

"You're the leader of the unenlightened who moved into the lighthouse. You killed the blessed who lived there."

His followers were lowering their weapons so I confessed. "I didn't know the ferals were important to you, and they were attacking the other settlements nearby. I didn't mean any insult."

"Ghouls are the blessed of Atom, preserved forever by the power of the glow. Atom's immortals." And all the people behind him murmured, "And we shall be like them." All together and it made the hair on my neck stand up.

"I could bring you some more ghouls if that would help. I'd like to make peace between your church and the settlers. Is there a chance we could come to a truce?" I think I managed not to be sarcastic when I said that, about bringing in more ghouls. Heaven knows we can always find more ferals.

The prophet invited me to attend their service, indicating that was the price for talking terms. Maybe he thought he could convert me. And there was something about him. When I walked closer I could see he really did glow, green lines on his hands and face like the glow had gotten into his veins.

The rest of the cult, maybe twelve or fifteen people, beckoned and moved out of the way and stared at me as I entered their camp. The smell of them hit me before the sight did—they smelled like—Scribe, you know radiation hits the digestive system like a batch of bad mirelurk cakes and they smelled like waste. They were all skinny and balding and miserable looking. I smiled and nodded and had to turn off my pip-boy's Geiger counter since it was clicking like static on a TV.

I'd known it would be hard, but forcing myself to walk into an irradiated area—you can't feel it, but you _feel_ like you can feel it. My whole skin itched and my stomach churned just from knowing what was happening to me.

Crater House isn't really a house, it's a series of shacks built over and around a crater made by a crashed prewar airplane. You can see the wings broken off and the body of the plane in the crater. Something in that plane is throwing off high levels of radiation. The crater is full of water and it steams like a hot bath. We walked over it on a bridge, the prophet first then me and the cultists who all murmured something pious as we crossed right over the source of the radiation. The Children of Atom's meeting area was built up on poles over the crater, in the steam. It had pews stolen from some real church and a bedsheet with the radiation warning symbol painted on it.

That's where the children were, on filthy sleeping bags in the back of the chapel. The baby';s bottle was full of milk but the brahmin was drinking the irradiated water too.

"So..." Em stops, lets out a long breath. "I didn't know. The settlers at the lighthouse had been watching the cult, but they hadn't seen the children. I never thought the cult might have children in it. So that changed my mission. If adults want to die from the glows I can't stop them but children… so I had the choice to leave them or probably kill all the adults to get them out. Which would certainly solve the problem with attacks on the caravans so… It was not a good moment, Scribe."

"So what did you do?" I ask.

"The prophet had a lot to say, so I let him talk while I looked around. He wanted to be sure I knew their doctrine. I don't know what the Megaton bunch believes but this prophet said a lot about how every atom contains a universe, and by splitting atoms those worlds are released and creation becomes richer. Getting the glows is the penance for giving birth to a universe, or something, and the longer someone lives with radiation sickness the more worlds they've created. He also thought ghouls are some kind of chosen beings who carry wisdom… that part is true, since some ghouls have been around since the war, but the ghouls I know aren't any more enlightened than anybody else and they'd tell you so!

"Confessor Abraham got his prophet status because he seems to be immune to rad sickness and he glows like a ghoul, so it seems like he's turning into one. He was certainly healthier than any of his congregation. I guess they were all hoping that following him would get them the same immunity. One of them said that by irradiating people with those awful rad guns was to bring them to the church, since once you were glowing your only hope was to worship the glow, or something. We use 'the glows' to mean radiation sickness but they think the green light that comes off some irradiated creatures is holy.

I came for diplomacy, but after the sermon I was having doubts. The plan was to offer produce and seeds in exchange for a ceasefire, we had just enough surplus to make it worthwhile if they'd quit shooting at Carla. But now I'm thinking I don't want these fanatics anywhere near a settlement, I don't trust them not to poison the water or something… the church in the Capital tried that? What did they do?...all right, but I want to hear about it once the holotape is done.

So there I was, thinking that killing all these people would be the safest thing to do and maybe even a mercy. I saw two people rush out to throw up from the rads. But I';d come in peace, I couldn't just start shooting.

So I tried diplomacy anyway. "Confessor, does your flock need food? We have seeds and plants for new allied settlements, if your settlement could respect that others don't share your faith."

One woman said, "All will be drawn to the glory of Atom!"

The prophet, though, looked interested in my offer. "Perhaps contact with the unenlightened would give us a chance to spread the true light of Atom. Do your settlements also make chems?"

So the prophet had just gotten the idea of a protection racket. "Not enough to trade." I said, mostly honestly and hoping to kill off that idea. Then the prophet said it was time for his daily meditation and off he went to a little shack on the edge of the crater and shut himself in.

The congregation gathered around me, eager to tell me more about their beliefs. I managed to ask about the children. "Where are their families?"

"Their parents have become one with the glow."

"Let me take them with me and find them families. I know other settlements that could take them in. they could always return here once they grow up."

"Certainly nobody was taking care of them _now_, the boy was feeding the baby and the girl sat looking out at the sky. But all I got from the adults was another sermon about how young people have a better chance of being like the prophet, who can embrace the glow without suffering. Apparently radiation sickness is a sign of sin leaving the body, not because free radicals screw up your insides. I popped another rad-x and I'm pretty sure that was a sin because the men glared and the women immediately told me I didn't need the medicine, that it was keeping me from enlightenment. I'm not referring to them as individuals because I never did learn any of their names except confessor Abraham, and I'd bet prewar money he just got it from the bible and it's not his real name.

"The Pip-boy was telling me that even with rad-x it was time to get out of there, and the only thing I could think of was to give up on diplomacy, go see the prophet, and offer to buy the children. It would be failing my mission, but it didn't seem possible to succeed.

"The followers didn't want me to go up, the prophet's meditation time is sacred, blah blah. But they weren't physically strong enough to stop me from climbing up the bridge to the prophet's shack. It was locked and no one answered when I called out, so I… unlocked it with a whack from my rifle butt.

"And there he was, just like I am now. Radaway in his arm, empty bags everywhere, rad-x bottles and blood packs. He was painting his glow on, some green goo he could've gotten out of a radroach.

"I said some words I won't repeat since I want the lady vault overseer to still like me after she listens to this, and of course half the cult was crowded on the bridge behind me since they'd been trying to stop me so they all saw too. The prophet said it wasn't real radaway but someone shot him with one of their gamma guns…

"I jumped off the bridge, slid down the slope of the crater and only just managed not to go into the water. That's what happened to my hand, it's the only part of me that went in and the water was hot, not just irradiated hot but actually hot. So I climbed around the crater until I got to the poor sick brahmin and threw some straps on it then told the children we were leaving. There was lots of shooting and yelling by then so they didn't argue much when I tossed them on the brahmin and we left as fast as it could stagger.

"We stopped at the lighthouse long enough for settlers to give us food for the road and help me stuff rad-x and purified water down everybody and make sure we weren't ourselves radioactive, but they don't have enough radaway to take us in or enough spare people to send anyone with us. The Children of Atom were likely to attack the lighthouse so they needed all hands and needed me to be far away. So best we just walk home.

"The glows hit about halfway and I had to stop a lot to get sick at both ends. That was fun. Managed to feed the baby clean milk and get the children to eat crackers and drink water. They did ask me to take them back but didn't try to get away while I was sick. They couldn't have walked back by then anyway.

"And I don't… ah, two bags in and I still feel like death. We made it here. The baby died but the other two are alive. I don't know their names. That's what happened."

The hospital door opens and the four nurses are back, with news of the attack on Tenpines and ready to check on the children, wake them up and get them to the latrine and water and crackers. I am rendered superfluous and ordered off to bed, with a final, "Tell me about the Megaton cult tomorrow, Scribe!" from the General.


	17. Weight of the World

Begin Recording

Weight of the World

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Mama Murphy said it was on me, to decide which ways of life would continue in the Commonwealth. Didn't sound likely, but that's how it turned out." The General says as we sit around resting our bones after dinner.

"I got to the Institute—which I'll have to tell you about another time, it'll be ten holotapes worth—but I got there and I was the first person since the war to come in from outside. The scientists greeted me with open arms and included me in their planning meetings, as kind of an ambassador from the outside. They needed me to find some parts for a new reactor that would give the Institute power for the next few hundred years. I was already talking to the division heads about the synth problems topside, thinking to trade the parts for some changes to their experiments and some help rounding up the rogue gen-ones wandering around attacking my settlements, and maybe some synth tech to help the people up here. They did float the idea of making me the next Director, but I think they were just dangling the title as a bribe and wouldn't have given me any real power.

"But everyone found out. There wasn't really any way to hide it, Sturges and I were building this giant thing and even though we didn't say it was a way to reach the Institute it wasn't a wild guess. But they found out.

"The leader of the Railroad, Desdemona, who I'd worked with and thought of as a friend, called me to headquarters and she had a very inspiring speech: this was our chance to free the Commonwealth from the Institute's tyranny, and that sounded good, that's what I was hoping for. And then she gets out this thing..."

Em half-stands, leans forward and sets her glass down hard, echoing how her friend must have presented the Railroad's solution to the problem.

"It was a bomb, something Tinker Tom cooked up that would blow the Institute's new reactor into a crater like the one in the Glowing Sea.

"It took me a minute to realize what she was saying and then—I kind of lost it. There are children in the Institute, all I could think of was that Desdemona was perfectly fine with killing not just the scientists but their families after everything she goes through to save innocent synths. So I yelled, and she yelled, and pretty soon all the Railroad leaders were watching us yell and Deacon said maybe we should revisit this later and dragged me outside.

"I would've been happy to find some raiders to shoot right then but instead we found a herd of radstags that hang around near the shore so we sat and watched them for a while while I calmed down.

"I think Deacon saved me, with the Railroad. He reminded me Desdemona has reasons to be bloodthirsty, and later convinced her that I was still on their side for everything that didn't include mass murder. So Desdemona didn't shoot me, just banished me from headquarters for a bit. We exchanged letters at drop points trying to convince each other.

"So I was back up here, farming, helping the Abernathys with their endless ghoul problem. I've gone over that train yard with a _flamethrower_, Scribe, and it still fills up with ghouls every couple months. Then a vertibird landed and Elder Maxson wants to see me.

"Maxson is a good leader, but I'd call him an ally not a friend. I'm quite sure he's only helping the settlements because a healthy well fed Commonwealth is good for the Brotherhood. The Prydwen is amazing, and I love flying, and there are plenty of your brothers I trust at my back. Including you, Scribe, for the record. It's Maxson I can't always agree with.

"And he had a solution to the Institute problem too, a poison he wanted me to release in the Institute's water supply. Lethal to humans, incapacitating to synths. Made to take everyone down quickly so when the Brotherhood dug down to the Institute all their research and technology would be preserved for collection. Inspired by something they saw in the Capital, apparently, you can tell me later.

"I wasn't shocked this time. Maxson is a soldier after all, and collecting tech is part of the Brotherhood way so it's a reasonable decision for him. So I said I'd think about it if we couldn't find a better solution.

"And I might have. Even Preston thought it was a solid option and he's pretty level headed. I did believe the Institute couldn't go on unchecked. I just also thought we shouldn't destroy it. Beyond the_ murder_ problem, the Institute has knowledge we can't afford to lose. Even if they won't share the fruits of their research now, it needs to be preserved.

"Some years back, a stranger staggered into Sommerville Place, dying of the glows. He'd walked across enough of the Glowing Sea that all they could do was make him comfortable and listen to him before he died. He said he'd been a slave in an empire far west of us, the empire of the Kaisar. Sounds like a whole country run on slave labor and conquest. And on the other side of them he said there's another empire in California that's been fighting the Kaisar's back and forth for a few decades. Have you heard of this, Scribe? My friends in the Commonwealth Brotherhood don't know what's happening west of here."

I confess that I've heard things that echo what Em heard from this survivor. The Elders know of an army of slavers, the Legion, but they are far enough away not to be an immediate concern.

Em nods. "The raiders in the bay and the greenskins in Boston are our immediate concerns, them and not starving over winter. But someday the slavers will defeat California or give up on that fight, and look east instead. It might not be in our lifetime but it will happen, and the Commonwealth will need to be ready to meet them as a possibly ally or a worthy enemy not just a population ready to haul off in chains. The Minutemen will be ready, and I hope your brothers will stand with us, but in the end we may need a synth army."


	18. First Steps

Begin Recording

First Steps

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Sure you don't want me to skip ahead to reaching Diamond City? I can't imagine your roads are much different from ours. Your roads have giant ants on them? Scribe, you should be making recordings! All right,

"Carla's route took us to the closest settlement, the Abernathy farm where we met Connie and Blake, and Dogmeat made friends with their cat. The Abernathys had just lost their daughter Mary to a raider attack and asked Carla to pass on the word to the Minutemen if she came across any. Carla said she didn't think anyone should be counting on the Minutemen these days. At least she didn't say the Minutemen were down to one survivor. The Abernathys traded tatos and melons to Carla for ammo, and were happy to hear of the new settlement nearby.

The road took us past Drumlin Diner where we found a pair of lowlifes threatening Trudy, who'd taken over the place as a trading post. Her son had gotten a jet habit thanks to these two—first taste's free, just like all that Just Say No stuff we got in school. Carla said we shouldn't get involved but I think our presence as strangers kept the two sides from getting violent. Trudy paid them off and told them to take their chems elsewhere in the future. Her poor son looked sick as hell with withdrawals and said he was never doing jet again.

"My only experience with chems was a housemate when we were in law school who got a mentats habit. Oh god, you don't know what law school is do you? Lawyers… if a brahmin gets out and tramples someone's garden, should the brahmin's owner pay for the crops, or the person who built the fence or the kid who's supposed to be watching the brahmin and didn't notice it was going into season and likely to wander? A lawyer's job is to figure out a fair answer so people don't have to shoot each other. So we have to learn all the laws and all the decisions other lawyers made last time. So we have to study a lot. Anyway, watching my roommate Kate stumble around when her dose wore off was enough to put me off chems.

"So that was our first encounter. Mostly Carla and I just walked along on either side of the brahmin. Dogmeat had a good nose for trouble and he could warn us of anything we didn't see first. Compared to work in Sanctuary, just walking was easy. And—peaceful. As long as nothing is attacking you, it's very peaceful. No sound but our footsteps, and the light on the dead trees… sorry, Scribe, my mind's wandering.

"The walk to Diamond City should have taken four days, it took us ten. Entering Lexington we heard lots of shooting up ahead and Carla said we should wait, search for salvage while we waited until the raiders moved on. And she had a suggestion for me: we were right by the Corvega plant where the raiders were holed up, so why didn't I go in and kill them and then we'd have justice and hundreds of caps worth of salvage. Carla wasn't a fighter so it would have to be me.

"I told Carla what lawyers do and that the only reason I can shoot a gun is because Nate made a bet that he could teach me. But she made her case, a long list of things these raiders had done. And Carla knew of a tunnel into the basement of the factory.

"Since the raiders' war didn't seem to be moving on I eventually gave in and crept through the tunnel to the factory in the middle of the night.

"In the end I wiped out the raider gang. I watched them first, got a good look at what raiders do at home. They were dirty, they fought each other for bits of food or gambled with bullets. A lot of them were chem users, just staring into space zoned out on med-x or taking psycho and slamming each other around. I hadn't really believed what Preston and Marci told me about raiders—how could a group of people live without trying to make their lives better? Anyone would want clean clothes and a real bed and a _toilet_, wouldn't they? Apparently not if you have enough chems and violence. I shot the first guy because he was boasting about what he'd done to a woman. That was what it took to make me look down my rifle scope at a human being. That was the first killing I remember in the kind of horrible detail you're supposed to remember things like that.

"But then I found proof that this was the group that had chased Preston and the others up from Quincey, and killed the Longs' son, and I found the locket the raiders took from Connie Abernathy. So I got my lesson in… wasteland justice, maybe. Learned that killing could be the right thing to do. When I brought the locket to Connie she cried and declared their family would ally with the Minutemen. When I told the Longs their son's killers had been wiped out Jun smiled and stood straight for the first time since we met, and Marci thanked me by name—once, then she went back to calling me rude names until she finally switched to General when everyone else did.

"And Carla thought it was great. I was hauling out piles of raider weapons and salvage from the factory and all Carla had to do was make room on her pack brahmin. We made so many caps off that haul, I spent it on shipments of circuitry and gears so Sturges could make more turrets for us.

"That's all to the road story, we crossed the bridge into Boston and that should probably go on your Diamond City record."


	19. Diamond City

Begin Recording

Diamond City

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"We entered the city, and Carla seemed to wake up a bit more. "Keep your eyes peeled." she said. It was very quiet. I saw a body hanging inside a building—raider home decorating. It didn't seem to bother Carla but it sure bothered me!

"About the time we started seeing the Diamond City signs we heard shots and explosions. It was a squad of security trying to pry a couple of greenies out of a building they'd taken over. Carla said I should help them and catch up later. So I did. Those were my first super mutants, hideous things. The security guys thanked me for the assist and let me loot the bodies as a welcome treat when they learned it was my first visit to Diamond City. I was too self-conscious to ask what the hell these green things were so I just took their ammo and checked out the building. They'd been there long enough to make meat bags, which told me plenty about super mutants. Does anybody know why they make those? I've heard they grow baby super mutants in them but I'm not sure I believe that. I've never seen a young super mutant, or a female. Doctor Duff told me later that she thinks half the super mutants are female, they just look exactly the same as the males. 'Not much sexual dimorphism' is what she called it. I hauled a few dead super mutants in to the Science Center years later… but I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Anyway, Carla had gone ahead so I reached the gates of Diamond City with just Dogmeat for company.

"As I came up to the gate I saw a girl in a long coat arguing to be let in. She beckoned me over and then, before I could ask why she was stuck outside she was saying loudly, "What's that, you say you're a trader? With enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a month?" There was a little more back and forth but I didn't speak up because I did want to get into the city. The poor guy on the other side of the speaker was convinced and the gate opened.

"Not a gate like you're thinking, Diamond City's gate is a slab of iron on huge hydraulic arms, a mini nuke wouldn't scratch it.

"And that was Piper Wright. Big bright smile and handwritten press pass stuck in her hat. About four steps past the gate the mayor caught her and they were yelling about slander. I learned Piper is the Commonwealth's only reporter and the mayor isn't keen on what she says. The fight seemed to be about missing people and the mayor not investigating. Piper was very passionate but I couldn't help thinking that there were enough monsters around to disappear people, no conspiracy needed.

"Mayor McDonough noticed me and gave me a big welcome, extolling the virtues of Diamond City—food, running water, sewers, a school, and The Wall. He pronounced it with capital letters.

"By the way, nobody in Diamond City was pleased when the Prydwen went overhead and they realized The Wall wouldn't help if the Brotherhood ever decided to bomb them.

"I told the mayor I was looking for my kidnapped son and he said kind but unhelpful things about finding someone in town to help, then made himself scarce with Piper giving him hell about not assigning security to help me. She invited me to visit the newspaper and went ahead, leaving me to follow.

"So Diamond City… is beautiful in the evening, with all the lights on. The metal structure of the stadium groans in the least little wind, it's spooky but almost musical. You need to go there Scribe, next time a caravan goes down. You'll get so many stories to send back to Arlington Library.

"The next person I met was Piper's sister Nat, a ferocious teenager standing on a box selling papers. She gave me one for free and told me all about the Institute and synths. That was the first time I heard of kidnappings, synths replacing people, gen-ones wiping out whole towns. And that nobody knew why. That was the scariest thing, the Institute was this all powerful menace that couldn't be understood.

"When I reached the Institute I asked about all this. The answers I got—the replacements were tests of synth humanity, and they only replaced people who died or who were 'in critical positions.' Yeah, that's about the look on my face when the good people in Robotics said that. Kidnappings were removals of synths they thought were about to glitch and get violent, and that rarely happened. And the roving gen-ones were survey teams that lost contact with the Institute and went rogue. Synths last for years after all, most of the rogues are from well before the current division heads were chosen.

"So the answers I got later were far from satisfactory and the people in Diamond City then had no answers at all.

"The newspaper was a report on the 'Broken Mask Incident.' You can have a copy. It's one of Piper's favorite stories so she did a reprint.

"So I wandered through the market in a bit of a daze, not knowing where to go. Met Ann Codman, one of the upper crust from the upper stands. Met Pastor Clement who described the institute as the boogeyman. We ended up talking about whether machines can have souls. The chapel is open all hours to all faiths, and Pastor Clement said synths would be welcome to commune with the almighty too. I'm not sure what I believe about God—as a lawyer you find out fast that there are good people and scumbags in every faith. And then the world blew up. I guess God would understand us being a little confused after that. But I went into the chapel and said a prayer, just in case.

"It was dark by then, and everything was closing up. Carla was in their caravan camp, but since we'd made it safely she paid me and said I could sleep wherever I wanted. The caravan camp was pretty crowded, so I bummed dinner and space on a couch off Piper and Nat in exchange for an interview. And Piper had a printing press. We later paid her a huge pile of caps to let Sturges take it apart enough to figure out how to make another printing press. Computer printing may be lost but we have a printing press printing instructions on how to make a printing press. We won't go all the way back to the dark ages.

"When I stepped outside in the morning I heard shouting. One man was holding another at gunpoint, saying he was a synth. Before I could get closer security had shot the accuser—not the accused. That's one way to discourage public suspicion. Security shooed everyone away and did not seem interested in explaining what the hell had just happened to an outsider like me so I went back and bummed breakfast off Piper in exchange for cranking the press, then she ordered me out to "Explore Diamond City, Blue! There's no place like it!" So I explored.

"I met Sheng the very young, bald water seller who scalped me fifty caps for a bottle of water. Doctor Duff in the science center gave me a lecture on radiation and asked me to cut up a bloatfly for her. Moe Cronin told me his idea of how baseball should be played and laughed when I told him how it was really played. Vadim joked that he'd killed a man to get his bar. I met the teacher robot Miss Edna who asked about love. The kids in the school wanted to pet Dogmeat, who charmed them and interrupted the lesson. The kids told me about the detective in town, Nick Valentine.

"I caught another of the mayor's speeches, more blasting Piper's article, more about trust and The Wall and how there are no synths in Diamond City. I'd been enjoying meeting everyone, seeing how alive the city was. It had noise and bustle and characters, things I wanted for Sanctuary one day. But it was also a city full of fear, people who had to say they felt safe when they didn't. And I had my own fear to chase down, so I went to Valentine's Detective Agency.

"But the detective was gone, I found his secretary Ellie mourning over the bills and cases that were piling up since her boss had disappeared. Went out on a case and didn't come back. This detective seemed like my best chance for finding the man who'd taken Shaun, so I offered to go find him. Ellie nearly cried with relief, then told me where Nick had been going, to a vault built in the Park Street train station. I'd been there, Nate and I visited Boston Common for concerts while we were dating. We went skating on the pond one winter, we had to rent skates and neither of us had skated since we were kids so we fell down a lot but we were wearing so many coats it didn't matter. But now all I knew was that the city between here and there was probably full of those green monsters and it wasn't on Carla's route so I'd have to walk there by myself and probably get horribly killed. Or not by myself, because Piper had given me a whole pitch while I cranked the press about how I'd be an endless source of stories and she'd love to come along. Same reason you came with your holotape recorder, Scribe. So I went back to show Piper the map and ask her if she really wanted to come."


	20. Boston Common

Begin Recording

Boston Common

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"This tape is not going to make me look great, scribe. But your librarians want the story and this is the story, so all right.

"It's fine, everyone here has already heard about me freaking out.

"So Piper and I headed for Park Street Station, walking. It was different without Carla's big calm lump of a brahmin along. I never had to hide behind the brahmin, but I think it was in the back of my mind that I could have, and it was comforting to have the big guy plodding along. Piper and I had our eyes and ears and Dogmeat's nose to watch for trouble. We could probably beat a raider or two but not a group of super mutants so our only hope was to avoid them.

"So we passed the Diamond City patrol limit, with the security team waving to Piper and wishing her good luck. We went by daylight because the dark would slow us down more than it would the super mutants and ferals.

"Low and slow, Blue." Piper told me. "We see any greenies we back off. Valentine's a tough guy, if he's lasted this long he can make it a little longer." She whispered to me how to crouch down, place my feet without making noise, hug the buildings to stay out of sight but also stay carefully away from anything that looked about to collapse. Dogmeat could range ahead; from a distance he looked enough like a wild mongrel not to give us away. Of course on top of everything else I was terrified some raider would shoot him for no reason.

"The buildings—I worked in the city, I drove down these streets but now they were falling down with holes in them. All the windows were gone and in some places bits of carpet or something flapped in the breeze. Everything that moved caught my eye, and the buildings creaked frighteningly when the wind blew. I was afraid something would fall on us.

"The remains of Boston aren't silent like the roads. There's nearly constant gunfire and explosions and you can't see where they're coming from because there are buildings in the way. It was very scary.

"We met some raiders, and killed the two that wouldn't stop chasing us, but nothing else went wrong until we got to Boston commons. It was evening by then, all the color washed out of the world. The fence around the Common had been reinforced with scrap wood painted with warnings. Piper said she'd heard there was danger here and with all the warnings we planned to skirt the edge of the common to go around to the station. Even Dogmeat had his ears down and the fur on his back up.

So we'd planned to stay away like sensible people, but there was no sign of anything dangerous. Or any life at all, it had gone silent.

So when I saw one of those yellow trunks the military used for supplies I had to take a look. Piper came too, so that makes Dogmeat smarter than the both of us. We were around by the gate on the corner, near the pond, safely away from the bandstand which seemed like the only place someone could be hiding. I'd heard concerts from that bandstand and taken a swan boat ride when Nate and I were doing all the cliché dating things, but now the pond was clogged with weeds and muck with its boats ruined. Oh, there was a dead body with a smashed head lying nearby, just to make it more obvious that we were being idiots.

I was creeping up, low and slow like Piper said. I glanced up as the capsized swan boat on the pond moved.

Piper whispered, "Blue-"

This _thing_ exploded out of the water, roaring like the end of the world. It was as tall as the bandstand, it was wearing the swan boat on its shoulder—

And something in my head went crack and next thing I know I was huddled in a corner. Inside a building. With no clear memory of how I'd gotten there.

Piper was giving me hell. "Blue, you can't be _doing_ this, what if you ran into a raider gang! Hell!" She cursed some more, I could hear her but she sounded very distant, not half as loud as my gaspy breathing that I couldn't slow down.

That this happened to me was almost as scary as the monster.

Finally Piper wound down and sat down next to me, her stream of curses faded out. "C'mon Blue, snap out of it already."

Dogmeat stuck his cold nose on my wrist and my shaking hand automatically moved to pat him and then I could move. "What was that thing?"

"I think it was a behemoth. That's what happens when a super mutant gets too much of whatever makes it a super mutant. I've never seen one, don't know anyone who has even the guards on The wall."

Behemoth. You've seen one now, and I've seen one other, down in the marshes to the south, it's still there unless it died. Swann is a lot bigger than the one we saw, he's freakishly big even for a freakishly big thing. He's still there too, by the way. Stay out of the Common.

So we sat there for a while until Dogmeat stopped panting and I stopped panting. I finally got my brain together enough to ask wonder, "Where are we?"

Piper said, "Dunno. You ran in here. But it looks like this elevator still works, so we could find out."

Oh. We were in an elevator. Yeah, I hadn't noticed. I looked out—long hallway with a carpet that was still deep red after two hundred years. Tasteful chairs and tables. The walls were still solid. "That thing didn't follow us?"

"Barely left the pond before it turned back." Piper got up and dusted herself off. She held out a hand. "Look on the bright side, Blue—you didn't shit your pants, and neither did I."

I sort of laughed, I still felt pretty awful. Adrenaline will save your life but then it hands you the bill.

The elevator did still work, and took us up to the second floor. I went right to the window and looked out, happy to see no sign of the monster. The pond rippled ominously but the square was empty. I looked around to see where we were. Somewhere real nice, it turned out. The tables were all inlaid wood and the chairs were covered in velvet. And skeletons. A lot of people had died sitting in chairs or at the tables, or leaning over the bar. The bar still had a shine when Piper ran a finger down it. There were lots of empty glasses and bottles with nothing but dried residue in the bottom. "I don't think we should drink anything here."

Piper was checking out the bar. "Too bad. They left some good stuff."

Looking around at the suits on the bodies I had an idea where we were, and the engraving on the wine glasses confirmed it. "I think this is the Boyleston Club. A bar for rich old men, no ordinary people or women allowed. Some of the senior lawyers I knew were members, the ones who were rich old men." It occurred to me then that I might know some of the bodies in the room. After two hundred years they'd been reduced to skeletons in suits so the only way I could know would be to go through the corpses' pockets. I wasn't sure if that would be respectful or the opposite. The faces of the richest senior lawyers I knew went through my mind.

Piper laughed at my words, "And here we are, women! This terminal still works, if I can guess the password."

I thought about it. "Try… 'compound interest.'"

"Well whaddaya know. There's a safe, and there's a tape in here." Piper hit a few keys and went to check out the safe while the tape played. It was a recording of the final toast. 'To the world that was. Mankind will never see its like again.' My panic-fried brain decided it was time to cry, hearing that while surrounded by bodies and looking out at night falling over the ruins of this place I'd known when it was green and beautiful. So I'm frantically wiping my eyes and trying to swallow the lump in my throat to keep some shred of dignity in front of Piper.

She came back with the contents of the safe: a pile of money, someone's gold pocket watch set with diamonds, and a bottle of whiskey as pretty as a big perfume bottle, topped with gold foil and red ribbon and actual sealing wax. "Think this one's safe." Piper said, unsealed it, and poured two shots.

If ever there was a time for drinking, that was it. We clinked glasses and Piper's hand was shaking as much as mine was, which made me feel immensely better. The alcohol helped too.

Dogmeat jumped up on a sofa, nosed aside the bones of the previous occupant, and lay down with a sigh. Piper said we should rest for a few hours, calm ourselves down and give the monster time to forget about us. We took another half a shot each then Piper capped the bottle and put it away. We ate dinner from our packs and with no sign of life outside, Piper chose a chair and I squeezed in next to my dog and we took naps.


	21. Doctors

**Thank you all for the follows, faves and reviews. Your feedback is helping me not just doodle my way through this story, it's helping me not lose my marbles with all the uncertainty around us. Thank you. **

Begin Recording

Doctors

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The General curses as Doc Jenna sews up a gash on her calf. "Damnit, the number of bullets I've dodged and I get whacked by a shovel. My own shovel."

The doctor ties off the thread and applies a stimpack to prevent tetanus. "Take the rest of the day off General, you can peel mutfruit or something."

Em groans but trades her gardening tools for a knife and a wooden cutting board and a pile of mutfruit. The tato crop is good this year, so we're eating tatos every dinner and the root cellar is full. The General's shovel mishap happened while digging another one. Everything else still needs to be cut up or otherwise rendered into the shape it needs to be for preserving or cooking for dinner. That's usually the childrens' job and Shiloh and Kaynah are doing it now. Shaun is sitting up against the metal support holding up the roof and fiddling with some gun parts, occasionally calling questions to Sturges who's working at the workbench behind him.

The garage of Sturges' house is the unofficial gathering place for people with something to work on, probably because Sturges is usually working out here and he's always happy to help people figure things out. So anyone wanting to learn to build anything hangs out here and everyone else just sort of gathers.

Jimmy is writing a story about Grognak the Barbarian with a charcoal stick down one wall of the house. Shiloh has scooted around so she can read it and offer commentary on the plot. The two children from Crater House sit watching, they have ears of corn to be stripping but they're still shellshocked enough that nobody's worrying whether or not they actually do the work. As I watch, Shiloh finishes her current job and starts shucking the corn and scraping the kernels off with a knife. "Like this. The husks are good for wrapping things and we dry the grains and make them into bread."

The newcomers don't talk much except for some shy attempts to spread the Good Word but they have at least stopped talking about returning to Crater house and given their names. The girl's name is Jill, and she was born in Diamond City before her father became irradiated in some kind of accident and decided to join the cult. The boy was born into the cult so his name is Born For the Glory of Atom, but decided 'Adam' would be an acceptable nickname 'since it's short enough to actually say' as Shiloh put it.

This is an ordinary day, most of the settlement working on digging the new root cellar or weeding and checking on the crops. Sturges has one of the generators in pieces on his workbench and is grumbling as he digs through the guts of it. Tom the bartender limps by with his crutch, with one of the settlement dogs trailing him worriedly. Dogmeat rolls happily in the dust.

The General asks, "Hey Scribe, what do you have for medical in Megaton?"

I say, "There's a doctor, Doc Church. He's very old now and rules his apprentices with an iron fist but he's teaching enough new doctors that some of them have started traveling to the other settlements around the Capital Wasteland."

"Think he'd send an apprentice down here if we sent one of ours up there? If I could get someone to volunteer."

Jonah, one of Doc Jenna's nurses, calls, "I'd go!" from the chemistry station.

I have a question. "Does the Institute have amazing medical technology?"

"Yes." Em says, and tosses a bit of peel into her scrap bucket. "But they can't or won't share most of it. The BioScience division could have grown Adam a couple of new kidneys if he'd turned out to need it, but they wouldn't have. The Institute has some amazing technology, but not enough to provide miracles to anyone on the surface right now. They do have something I can tell you about though, they have a working autodoc."

"No way." I say. I have heard that there was something called an autodoc perfected in a lab in California right before the war, it's supposed to be able to heal anything. I had assumed, as most scribes do, that the story is just a legend. "Those are real?"

"One is real, the Institute has it but it takes a lot of very specialized chemicals and a lot of power so it can't be used very often. I did not know this when a polite synth grabbed me and said I should 'Disrobe and step in here, please. It will make sure you are healthy and not carrying any pathogens from the Wasteland.' I had only just entered the Institute, seen it for the first time, and met someone who… well, I wasn't at my best. I felt a lot like when I woke up in the vault, so probably actual shock. I didn't even flash back to getting into a 'decontamination' pod at the vault, which I should have remembered. But I had also just realized I could trust the Institute, shock or not."

"So the only thing my brain noticed was the 'disrobe' part. It did make sense that I could bring germs in and that would be bad, so all right, but I was carrying two guns, a knife, chems, a bag of caps, and all my armor. So I said that to the synth, 'This stuff keeps me alive. You can disinfect it, but I need it back. All of it.' The synth assured me that my possessions would be returned in working order and waited for me to hand over my stuff. So I took off my harness and guns and my boots, and then had to say, 'Um, could you turn your back please?' Yeah, it's a synth not a man but it had a male voice and that was enough to count! It looked really confused but it turned away." Em laughs.

"So I stepped into this tube thing, a robot arm came at me with an injector and then I woke up two days later with the polite synth telling me the machine had cut a precancerous growth from my liver, filtered my blood, and strengthened the tendons in the shoulder I keep busting trying to fight in power armor. Happily I was not infected with anything contagious. The polite synth who'd probably been waiting there the whole time returned my clothes and armor and told me that everybody was looking forward to meeting me now that they were sure it was safe."

"So that was that experience. I'd rather get sewed up by the Doc where at least I can see what she's doing. The Institute does have a human doctor too, who does all the medical care since the autodoc has to be saved for life threatening emergencies."

Shaun says, "Mom's a life threatening emergency!" and his mother laughs.

"Well if I had something that nobody down there had been immunized against, I would've been! I want them to program twenty synth doctors, we've been going round and round, synth doctors would help get rid of the paranoia about the Institute but how many people would trust a synth doctor? Are synth doctors the best use of the Institute's resources? They mostly don't accept resources from the surface so we can't help. I just got Robotics to promise _three_ synth doctors, so we'll see how those work. So that's my story. Who else wants to say something so my brain doesn't melt from boredom?"

Shiloh says, "Jimmy, what does Grognak do when he gets hurt?"

"He uses jungle herbs. Too bad those only exist in books!"

Here begins two hours of half the population of Sanctuary discussing comic books, which I believe my fellows in the Arlington Library would not consider a good use of holotape space. I'm more of a Silver Shroud fan anyway.


	22. Windmills

Begin Recording

Windmills

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"It was high summer and I was on a mapping expedition southeast of Tenpines. we'd worked out how to connect my Pip-boy to a terminal back in Sanctuary so all I had to do was tell it what I saw and it would log my location. Your friends in Vault 101 know how to make these don't they? I will buy as many as the lady overseer can sell, and for the blueprints she can have anything but my firstborn child."

Shaun is close enough to hear and pipes up, "But they could have Shiloh!"

"I'm not sure we should inflict your sister on a bunch of innocent vault dwellers. What's up, Shaun?"

"Mom, can I build this?" The boy hands over a picture and I lean forward to look. It's a waterwheel. I was expecting a toy cart or a treehouse or something.

The general looks seriously over her son's clumsily drawn diagram. "If you can find all the pieces and nobody else has plans for them, and you have a place on the river where it won't be in the way of something, you can build it. But I think it's going to be harder than you think."

Shaun nods somberly. "I have time. I'll go look for wood."

When he's gone I ask his mother, "A waterwheel?" and see the General glow with pride.

"Shaun's a smart kid, he's got an engineer's mind. And he doesn't like having to chase the brahmin around all day just to have flour."

We glance over at a brahmin lazily walking in a circle attached to a contraption of poles and gears that turns two big metal wheels together. A crooked sign on top that nobody admits to putting up reads 'The Daily Grind.' Dried corn or razorgrain poured in between the wheels comes out as coarse flour. Kayna walks over and taps the brahmin with a thin branch to get it going faster. Both the brahmin's heads complain.

Em says, "So where was I? On the traintracks, Dogmeat's sniffing around and I'm wondering if we could get any of the train cars moving again, if Connie's matched brahmin could move one, but not unless we could also move the car carrying ten tons of marble blocks off the track. And I looked up and saw something just coming out of the haze, down in the valley, sails. I realized it was up on one of the overpasses and it was a windmill.

"My heart just lifted. It had to be another settlement, someone cared enough to try to build something, and they'd figured out how and done it and it worked. I couldn't wait to meet the people who built windmills. They were a fair way south of me though, and it was the kind of scrubby hill that mole rats like to pop out of plus I'd be visible for a long way to any raiders who happened to be around. The quarry down there is a perfect raider den, new groups keep finding it and then they send out parties looking for someone to rob. So I had to make a plan, and the best idea seemed to be to go south and follow the overpass from underneath so I'd have some cover until the point where it dipped down to the ground.

"It took hours to hike down there but at last we walked under the overpass. Dogmeat immediately flopped down for a rest in the shade and I sat down against one of the huge support pillars and got a jug of water and some mole rat jerky out of my pack for lunch. It was quiet, that heavy silence the Commonwealth gets when you can hear every breath of wind. I was hoping I'd hear something from the settlement, but there was no sound of people. We waited in the quiet until Dogmeat stopped panting and perked up, wagging his tail to say he was ready to go.

"So we walked along in the shade, had to whack a few bloatflies that had gathered in the mucky water around one of the supports. Ahead I could see where the road sank down towards the ground, so we had to be close. I walked out to see the windmill, still further east. It wobbled in the breeze but wasn't really turning. About then I started to smell something unpleasantly familiar. And see it too. Whoever lived up top must've been… yep, there it was. Outhouse sticking out over the edge of the overpass so everything just fell down to the ground.

"I still hadn't heard any sound of people, and that was starting to bring down my high spirits. Maybe the windmill builders were gone. They certainly hadn't used their engineering knowledge to figure out a better way to deal with sewage.

"The overpass was broken and a whole section drooped until it rested on the ground. About there someone had sunk a pump into the ground, the same kind Sturges put in before we had the big purifiers. Dogmeat and I were still skirting around piles of stinking mess. I still hadn't heard any sound of people and I was beginning to think I'd come this far for nothing. At least no one up there was shooting at us.

"I climbed up, the slope was so steep I did it mostly on all fours. Soon I was hit with a wave of stink much worse than the smell down below and I knew I was about to see something bad not something good.

"It was a raider camp, or it had been, and they were all dead. Men and women, mostly still in bed but some sprawled in chairs, mostly lying in the dried remains of their own filth. Whatever killed them had wrinkled them up, mummifying them still alive. I only had the required history classes but I remembered something about cholera killing half a city, back in the day when people didn't understand about germs. Something like that must have happened up there. I put on gloves and tied a bandanna over my face and went to look for survivors. There weren't any. I just got to see and smell a lot more raiders bloating in the sun. Couldn't even loot their ammo boxes because I didn't want to touch anything. Dogmeat agreed, he didn't even sniff anything too closely. We couldn't rescue anybody, we couldn't collect the weapons they weren't using anymore, in the end we just left the raider camp as it was. That was a bad day.

"Later on I found other windmills on overpasses, always built by the Gunners so I can only assume those raiders took over an abandoned Gunner camp. The Gunners helped wipe out the Minutemen in the first place, and they aren't interested in talking to us now. I even tried walking up to Gunners plaza with a big sign saying 'I want to hire you.' Of course I walked up wearing bulletproof power armor, I'm not an idiot. That was the last time we bothered trying to reason with the Gunners, after that the turrets were programmed to shoot at anyone wearing Gunner armor. Deacon thinks someone's behind the Gunners, giving them orders to claim more land in the Commonwealth and push out the rest of us, but I'm not sure what the end goal of that could be. Gunners don't farm, and now that there are enough Brothers and Minutemen to guard the settlements the Gunners are retreating before they starve. I suppose someone's going to have to follow them back home and see if there really is someone pulling their strings.

"And that's the story of a normal day mapping the Commonwealth. Hope your friends at the Arlington library like it."


	23. Valentine

Begin Recording

Valentine

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Piper and I got to the Park Street Station at some unholy hour before dawn. The lights still worked inside the station and we could see someone moving around at the bottom of the escalators. Bad guys, presumably. Turned out to be a gang called the Triggermen, who liked submachine guns. We went down and flattened ourselves against the walls out of sight, listening to the two guards. They were talking about 'the boss' locking up a detective. Piper grinned and whispered, "Knew Valentine was too tough to die. But we're gonna have to take out these guys. Can you do it, Blue?"

I nodded and held my pistol ready. Dogmeat looked up at me waiting for us to move.

So the Triggermen started shooting at us and we took them out. Eventually. After a long firefight that Piper and I spent mostly crouched behind a Nuka-cola machine while bullets came at us like hailstones. Dogmeat really saved the day, I don't know who trained him but he knows to stay out of the way, get up behind the bad guys and go right for the ankles.

When that was over and our ears stopped ringing we went down the tunnel, which seemed much bigger without a train in it. It was cluttered with pieces of things and lots of construction equipment and I remembered Ellie saying this place was being built into a vault. I wondered if people were frozen down here too. Down where the construction had been happening someone had set up some work lights making the tunnel as bright as day. And there was the huge iron door, set upright instead of flat in the ground but just the same as it had been in my vault. One-fourteen. I plugged in my Pip-boy—this thing has authentication codes to open all the vaults, it seems. Smacked the button and the door rolled open. Piper said, "I knew I'd see things if I followed you."

We were not the first people in this vault. Don't know how the Triggermen opened it, but they had. So we had to shoot some more of them.

It was while we were getting our breath and patching ourselves up after that fight that Piper found a vault terminal and found out what this place was really about. The vault was some kind of experiment, something about taking upper deck types who are used to luxury and cramming them together in poor conditions to 'study their reactions to stress.'

That opened up a whole lot of questions I didn't have time to think about then.

We found the main room of the vault, the atrium, just like in those pamphlets the Vault-Tec people gave us. Across the room on a sort of balcony someone was taunting a prisoner trapped behind a round window, in what I think was the overseer's office. The prisoner answered back, something about Skinny Malone and a black book. A distinctive voice, low and raspy. Piper whispered, "That's Valentine. Shoot that guy and we'll go bust him out."

Whoever he was, this last Triggerman didn't seem to have heard all the fighting on the upper level so I thought we might be able to avoid killing him. Maybe threats would work. I reloaded and stepped out, holding my gun ready but not pointing it. "Hey."

"The hell are you?"

"We're here to-"

...get Valentine, I would have said, but the Triggerman's gun came up and Piper shot him. It would probably always have ended that way. Certainly nobody else in the vault had been willing to talk to us. Piper searched his pockets and handed me a slip of paper with a mysterious word on it. Password.

I climbed the stairs and looked through the round window. Nick Valentine called out, "Hey you! I don't know who you are, but we've got about three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains there ain't coming back. Get the door open!"

The word was indeed the password and the door opened.

Inside I saw the flare of a match and Nick greeted me with, "Gotta love the reverse damsel in distress scenario..." The light fell on his face and I gasped.

Nick is a synth. He's the only synth I've met who looks like a synth. His eyes are flat yellow and metal is visible through holes in his skin. He was holding a cigarette in an obviously metal hand and I wondered how he could smoke, without lungs.

"What… are you?" I couldn't help asking.

"Told you, I'm a detective. Piper Wright, is that you? Who's your friend? Why'd you come looking for me, not that I'm not grateful."

"Hey, Valentine, you think Ellie wouldn't send somebody to bring you back? This is my new friend Em, she needs a detective."

"My baby. My son Shaun was kidnapped, I don't know who by."

"Missing kid huh? You came to the right man, if not the right place. I've been cooped up in here for weeks—turns out the runaway daughter I was hired to find is Skinny Malone's new flame and she's got a mean streak. Anyway, you've got troubles and I'm glad to help. Let's blow this joint, then we'll talk."

Piper said, "There's more coming? Yeah, let's go. C'mon, Dogmeat!" Dogmeat had caught up with us. He saw Nick and his ears went flat, then perked back up as the detective offered a hand to sniff.

Unfortunately there were more. The three of us plus dog went down towards an exit Nick knew about and we ran right into Skinny Malone himself. And the girl Nick had been looking for. She looked younger than me, and was wearing a sequin dress and holding a baseball bat.

Skinny Malone started yelling at us about being king of the vault and how we'd killed all his guys.

The girl looked at me. "Who're you? Valentine must've bribed you to rub us all out."

I gaped. Did I look like a mercenary? I had just 'rubbed out' a lot of people, but I hadn't wanted to. "I'm—I need Valentine to help find my family."

Valentine took that up, "And your family needs you, Darla. Do you really wanna waste your life with these thugs?"

The girl's mouth twisted. "I- I- you're right! What am I doing here? I'm going home, Skinny! This is goodbye for us." and she lit out of there while Skinny turned on Valentine and me.

"Come on Nicky, you cost me my men and now you and your friend cost me my girl! Tell me why I shouldn't gun both of you down right now!"

Valentine shot back, "Because we just did you a favor, you always did have terrible taste in women. Now maybe you'll see sense and let us… all… walk."

Skinny had two other guys with him but Piper had stepped out on Valentine's other side and Dogmeat was growling from cover quite close by. Skinny Malone blustered, "All right, you get to the count of ten! I still see your face after that..."

We ran.

And we made it out. Only hitch was that Nick's secret exit was up a ladder and we had to hoist Dogmeat up. Once we were all out and the maintenance hatch was closed again Nick sighed and looked up. "Ah, that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting. Thanks for getting me out, you two. You said Ellie sent you? I should give her a raise. Now, about your case… your son, Shaun? I'd like to meet up in my office, in Diamond City, and you can give me all the details. Besides, I think we all need a chance to put our feet up after all that. You wanna go now or you got somewhere else to be?"

Piper and I looked at each other and I said, "Lead the way, Nick."


	24. 114

Begin Recording

114

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I did go back to vault 114, a few years later. After seeing a few other vaults it became clear that Vault-tec was doing strange things in every vault, not just ours. Piper wanted to do an expose so we went back to see what we could find out. Took Nick along too, hired him in case raiders or something had moved into the vault. No one had so it was just a day out with my Diamond City friends. Piper even brought a picnic, squirrel bits and cornbread and some Nuka-colas she scrounged.

It was fun for a while, we went through the place laughing at the idea of a bunch of upper-deck types stuck in this place. The vault was pitched as the height of luxury but it didn't even have his and hers toilets, just one room.

Nick remembered seeing holotapes in the overseer's office where he'd been locked up so we all gathered around to listen to them. And laugh at that too, since the overseer they picked said he refused to wear pants on the job. No matter how old you are, someone refusing to wear pants is always funny.

Piper was making notes and Nick was just along for the ride. He was the first to get serious. "Putting people cheek by jowl, families crammed in with strangers, no personal space or possessions… sounds like this place was designed to destroy human dignity."

Piper's pencil slowed down in her notebook and she looked up. "Nick?"

"I may not be human but I understand having your own clothes and your own job. The folks on the upper tier may have a little too much dignity, but nobody deserves to have all of it taken away."

That's the thought that had been growing sickly in the back of my mind, this place was funny but it was calculated to produce misery. I found a list of names on the terminal, families, some of them with infants and one couple with a dog. Next to the dog's name was 'Do not allow.' They were going to make people leave their dog outside? And not tell the people beforehand? That seemed like such pointless cruelty.

Piper too looked a little nauseated by the idea. Just that morning we'd been playing with puppies, the main reason I'd come down to Diamond City was to deliver three of Dogmeat and Goliath's pups to their new owners.

I said, "This is sick. It isn't science. Freezing us, at least that makes sense, Doc Jenna says she wishes we could freeze people until we got better tools or found the cure for their disease. There's a use for freezing people. But what's the use in making people miserable?"

"It never happened, Blue. This vault wasn't completed remember?"

"Thin skin you got there, General."

I think I shot back something like, "Stuff it Valentine or I'll give you a puppy." And Piper laughed her head off and said we'd seen all the terminals so we might as well go home so she could type up her story. I think she titled it 'Prewar Hopes Betrayed' but it wasn't a big hit.


	25. Clues

Begin Recording

Clues

Recording by Scribe Ellison

By the time we staggered back into Diamond City Piper and I had been awake for way too many hours and been in a very long fight. Even Dogmeat was lagging. Valentine went home for a probably-tearful reunion with Ellie and Piper and I tried to sneak into Publick Occurrences without waking Nat. We might've managed it except that Dogmeat decided Nat's bed had enough room for him too and crawled in with her.

I was awakened far too soon by Nat poking me, "Em, wake up! You have to get ready. You've been invited to a wedding!"

"Don't know anybody to invite me." I argued, and tried to keep sleeping. But I could hear Dogmeat clicking around, Nat clanking the printing press and—oh joy!—a shower running. Diamond City running water! That was enough to get me up. Piper emerged grime-free and I took my turn to wash up. Nat had washed my vault suit and gave me one of Piper's dresses to wear while it was drying and to this mysterious wedding. It felt strange to put on a dress again, I'd gotten used to pants and the weight of my gun harness.

Just outside a small crowd of citizens was gathered outside the chapel. All in their Sunday best, which means prewar clothing, patched suits and faded dresses. Nick was there too, still in his detective trenchcoat but Ellie had on a sequinned top and a long skirt, and she was arm in arm with Nick, slightly romantically and slightly like she wanted to make sure he didn't escape.

Ellie hugged us and tied a ribbon on Dogmeat so he'd be dressed up too. "You saved my boss and my job… thank you."

"Our pleasure, Miss Ellie!" Piper said.

The wedding began and the bride and groom came out of the chapel—Mr. Zwicky from the school and his robot assistant Miss Edna. A human marrying a handy. I had told her to believe in love, just an aside when we chatted in the schoolhouse but I hadn't thought love might mean… love. Cogsworth certainly has a personality but I'd never think of him as falling in love. he's made of metal! Back in my time there were whispers if two people with different skin colors married so I had to work to keep shock from showing on my face. Nobody else seemed upset, except for a few upper-deck types at the edge of the wedding party so I decided to think about that later and just enjoy the ceremony.

It was short, Pastor Clements said the 'love, honor and cherish' stuff and the bride and groom said 'I do' and everyone cheered and threw razorgrain kernels. The bride tossed her bouquet of hubflowers and Myrna caught it but I think she must have decided they were synth flowers because she gave it to Nat.

After the wedding Ellie said, "Noodles for everybody, I'm buying!" So we ended up sitting around in Valentine's Detective Agency while Nat took Dogmeat to introduce to her friends. There weren't a lot of dogs in Diamond City then. There are more now, and Nat has two of Goliath's pups to guard Publick Occurrences when Piper's away.

While watching the rest of us eat noodles Nick asked, "About your missing person. You want to start now?"

I nodded and looked down at my noodles.

Piper tipped her head towards the door, "You want I should vanish?"

"You can stay. Just, this isn't an article all right? Not yet anyway, maybe later but not yet."

"Off the record, Blue." Piper said, hand on her heart.

"What do you want to know, detective?"

"Everything." Valentine rumbled, "Everything you can tell me. No matter how… painful it may be."

I took a breath. "We're looking for my son Shaun, a baby, not even a year old. While we were frozen in the vault… something happened, I woke up for a minute and I saw them take Shaun from my husband. When Nate tried to stop them he—shot Nate—"

Piper put her hand on my shoulder and Ellie said, "It's ok, you don't need to say anything more."

Valentine was all business but I swear I could see sympathy in his yellow eyes. "The first thing I see—why your family in particular? And why an infant? Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it. And we're talking about a group cold hearted enough to kill, but not eager. They waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. Whoever it was, they had an agenda."

"Do you have any idea who could do that? This isn't my world."

Piper looked at Valentine and made an apologetic face. "Well Valentine's gonna say I have a one track mind, but raiders and super mutants aren't big on plans with details and Gunners aren't the type to change diapers and that leaves..."

Valentine sighed, "Yes, that leaves the Institute."

"The Institute? Synths? What would they want with my baby?"

"No one knows, but no one knows why gen-ones wipe out whole towns or why people turn up replaced. No one knows what their plan is. Not even me and I'm a synth myself. A discarded prototype anyway."

I had been curious about that. And curious about what Nick was and everything about him. Nick is so solidly Nick, he's the opposite of everything I'd heard about synths. "You're a prototype?"

"Best I can figure. Woke up in a pile of trash with all these detective memories in my head, but I know what I am. A synth who's a detective. But we're getting away from the case at hand. What did these kidnappers look like?"

I thought back, the memories were fuzzy and overwhelmed by how cold I'd felt. "The man was dressed like a wastelander, he had a leather harness like mine and some kind of metal brace on his arm. The woman was wearing some kind of hazard suit. White. Really bright white and clean."

"That's interesting. The man could be a merc, but not many of them could afford a fancy white hazard suit."

Piper put in, "I've seen radiation suits but they're all yellow. Never seen a white one."

"Good point, Piper. Could be something very specialized. Em, what else can you tell me about them?"

"The man spoke to me. Or just close enough for me to hear. I'll never forget his voice, low and rough. He said something about 'the spare.' I don't know if he meant _me_ or… I don't know."

"Well that's spooky."

"He got close? Did you see his face?"

"Bald. Stubble, but that's half the guys out here. Scar across his left eye." I drew a finger over my own eye and cheek.

Valentine straightened up suddenly. "Wait. It couldn't be. Em, you didn't hear the name 'Kellogg' at all did you?"

"I don't think so. But I only heard him when he was up close."

"Still. It's way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what do we have on the Kellogg case?"

Ellie handed over a file, "The description matches. Bald head, scar, reputation for dangerous mercenary work but no one knows who his employer is."

Valentine continued, "And he bought a house in town, right? And he had a kid with him didn't he?"

Probably everyone heard me gasp. "A kid? Is he here?"

Ellie looked at the file, "A boy about ten years old. I don't remember what he looked like, sorry, just one more kid in town."

"Are they still here?" I was half standing up, ready to go look.

But Valentine shook his head, "They both vanished a while back if I'm remembering right, but the house is still there. Let's you and I, and the nosy reporter if she wants to come, take a walk over to Kellogg's last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went."

So we did. It was late afternoon and I could feel the lack of sleep starting to drag at me underneath the excitement that was keeping me going. Suddenly everything I saw in Diamond City was something Shaun might have seen. Was he the child? Had I been frozen for ten more years since I saw him taken? It didn't feel like ten years, it didn't feel like any time at all. But if he was ten now I'd missed his first steps and first word, missed being there when he started school. So much.

But since waking up in this new world I'd had to revise my dreams, and I could do it again. It would still be all right. When we found him Shaun would be old enough to play with Dogmeat and Preston would probably want to start teaching him Minuteman survival tricks. If Shaun had lived in Diamond City he'd probably want to stay here, and he'd have to finish school. So we'd get a house here for a few years before moving to Sanctuary. I could see a life in Diamond City. Ellie had already hinted that Valentine could use a partner, and I could see that. Maybe there would even be some way to use my law school training. We'd be all right.

Ahead of me Valentine pointed the way we were going. "I didn't want Ellie to hear this, she worries about me as it is, but you should know. Everything I dug up on Kellogg before his disappearance is bad news. He's more than just a mercenary, he's a professional. Quick, clean, thorough. He has no enemies, because they're all dead. Except you."

"He's an assassin?" Shaun had grown up with an assassin?

But I hadn't said it loud enough for Valentine to hear me and he continued, "But nine to one odds says he's our man. It's more than just you identifying that scar, the MO is all him as well. Leading a small team to kidnap a baby and leaving one of the parents alive for later? Not many mercs in the Commonwealth could pull that off. Here we are."

I'd been busy listening and walking and hadn't really seen where we were going. We were up in the stands somewhere but not the upper stands. This place was cluttered and the paint was peeling. We were in front of a plain metal door. Valentine knelt and said, "Keep an eye out will you? Let me see if I can get this open." He tried his lockpicks and Piper and I watched for security guards.

"You any good with locks, Blue?"

"I could open the door of my dorm room with a bobby pin and a butter knife. Of course our dorms had the cheapest locks in the world. You?"

"Security keeps taking away my lockpicks, I never get a chance to practice."

Valentine said, "Well that's bad news ladies, because this is one heck of a lock. Almost like Kellogg's got something to hide. Why don't you give it a try?"

So I tried and Piper tried and the lock didn't budge. Finally I said, "We're not going to be able to open this. Anybody know where the key is?"

"Maybe." Piper interrupted herself with a big yawn. "But we can't try it until morning. Sorry Nick, I think us flesh and blood people need sleep."

So we decided to regroup tomorrow and I apologized for crashing on Piper's couch again and she said if I kept making life this interesting she'd find a mattress for me.


	26. Sunset on the Fens

Begin Recording

Sunset on the Fens

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"The other behemoth?" The General's eyes go distant though her hands continue shucking corn. "It was down south, in the fens. I'd found a church standing in the swamp and climbed up to get out of the muck and look for a place to camp. I climbed to the top of the steeple and out onto the roof and suddenly I could see for miles. The sun was setting, reflecting bright copper and turning the air almost orange. I looked out over long grass and water and dead trees. That's where it was, the huge beast pacing aimlessly through the swamp. From up here I could hear it stomping and grumbling aimlessly to itself, not words, more like the sounds Dogmeat makes in his sleep. From everything I hear, Dogmeat's a lot smarter than your average behemoth.

"I watched it for a long time, as the sun sank and the light went from orange to blue. The behemoth only showed purpose when it suddenly lunged with its club to smash a mirelurk and tear it apart to eat. Otherwise I don't think the beast was really thinking at all.

"Nothing else moved out there and there was no sign anyone had been in the church since the bombs dropped. So once it got too dark to see the behemoth I went inside and set up camp.

"The next day of course I had to take a huge detour west around the monster that had me slogging through the swamp an extra four hours. When I finally got to Somerville Place I greeted them with, "The Minutemen are here to help, but first can I dry my boots at your fire?"


	27. Mothers and Children

Begin Recording

Mothers and Children

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"A deathclaw nest? Yeah. I've seen one. It was… heh. It was after Shaun came home, I spent about a month just staying home with him trying to be a housewife, I didn't go scouting or visit other settlements. It did not work for me. After the third day of pacing around snapping at people Preston grabbed me and said, "General! ...Em. You are going to go crazy and take us all with you. Put your guns on and take a walk."

"I can't leave Shaun."

"Shaun has all of us to keep him safe. He needs his real mom, not a wannabe prewar housewife."

I just about smacked Preston, except that he just sounded worried about me. Also, he was right. So I swallowed my pride, put on my armor, and agreed not to come back until I found something to add to the map.

A day or two later I ended up sheltering from the rain on an overpass with Dogmeat lounging next to me. We were on the bottom level of a two tier overpass, sheltered by the road above us. We'd found the end of our street, a long break in the road. Looking across the gap I could see a pile of stuff. Sticks and weeds, and bits of clothes and armor and bodies. It was quiet so I decided to wait and see if anything happened, at least until the rain stopped.

It was coming down hard and the air was full of the smell of wet asphalt and the moss hanging down from the level above us. I fed Dogmeat some jerky and he seemed happy to hang around. I got out my rifle and fit on the legs and my best scope to get a better look at the pile of junk across the way. Something moved in there and Dogmeat pricked up his ears.

It hopped out all of a sudden. More like a bird than a lizard, it kind of looked like a naked green chicken with a tail. A deathclaw chick!

I took my eye off the scope to check the distance between the nest and where I was. Definitely too far for an adult deathclaw to jump, and I had all my guns and Dogmeat was wearing his armor so if the mother came back we'd probably be all right.

So we watched the deathclaw chicks—there were three of them—for two hours. They tussled like kittens and pulled bits of meat from their nest to eat. When the wind changed the stink of the nest came at us and Dogmeat put his paws over his nose. Deathclaw dung is unbelievable. This was giving me second thoughts after my first thought had been if I brought one back I could have deathclaw eggs. I miss omelets. But how do you tell a male from a female deathclaw?

Then the mother came back. I didn't see her coming, she just appeared on the other side of the gap carrying most of a raider in her claws. The man was still alive but his guts were hanging out.

The sight was a shock and so the deathclaw was dangling the raider over her nest so her chicks could leap at his trailing guts before I got my rifle aimed and ended the man's suffering. I couldn't have saved him, even if I'd shot the deathclaw there aren't enough stimpacks in the Commonwealth to heal a wound like that.

The deathclaw didn't notice—silencers are great—so I watched the mother rip off bits of raider and feed them to her offspring, who gaped and made raspy little yipping sounds as they begged for scraps. It was almost fascinating, how many people have watched a deathclaw family having dinner, though I felt sorry for the dinner.

In the end I did kill them. The spot was too close to the Abernathy's and Sunshine Tidings to leave four deathclaws alive. Their next dinner could have been one of my settlers. I got the adult in one shot through the eye and once she stopped twitching I had to climb down to the ground and find a way up to the nest. That took a while; the other section of the road didn't touch the ground so I had to find a tree to push over and climb up.

When I finally got up there the chicks were crammed under their mother's body. One of them went for Dogmeat and he dispatched it in one snap. I emptied my pack and stuffed the other two chicks into it, had to use a stimpack for the gashes they left on my arms.

I got them home and we put together a pen for them. Shaun liked the new livestock.

But you will have noticed, scribe, that there are no deathclaws in took care of them, fresh water and plenty of molerats and mongrels to eat. Shaun and Kaynah tried to tame them. Doc Jenna even stuck them with stimpacks when they got sick, but they both died after a year or so. Doc said it was some disease that only deathclaws get.

So that was the deathclaw nest, and our experiment in farming living meatgrinders. It almost worked. They never gentled though, Shaun can tame the most vicious dog I ever hauled back from a raider camp but no matter how long he fed the deathclaw chicks they never stopped slashing at his hands when he came to clean the pen. I did see another deathclaw nest, but Piper was along for that so maybe she'll tell you about it.


	28. Kellogg

**...quotes within quotes are a nightmare, I have to figure out a better way to handle the talking about the game timeline while in the postgame timeline. #writerproblems again! **

Begin Recording

Kellogg

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"This is Emily Mason recording for Scribe Ellison. The latest caravan brought me a couple of notes from people down in the Capital Wasteland who have been listening to these holotapes. Never thought of myself as a bestselling autobiography, but I'm glad you're enjoying it. Please come visit anytime, if you'd like to take a caravan up. Overseer Amata, I'd love to meet you and hear about what it was like living in a real vault. Mayor, I'd love to swap settlement management tips. Scribes, if you're all like the scribe we already have you can all come visit. And whoever Moira Brown is, you apparently borrow these holotapes without asking, and you're a writer? You must be an interesting person. If you get bored with the Capital, come see us in Sanctuary.

"When the last tape ended my friends and I were looking for the key to Kellogg's house, where we thought Shaun might have lived for a while. He did, so he'll talk on this tape too.

"The problem was that the key to Kellogg's house, if there was one, was held by the person in charge of real estate in Diamond City—the mayor. Piper's arch-nemesis.

"So I got to hear from Piper all about how she thinks the mayor is a synth, evidence: he doesn't talk like a real person and he's unwilling to search for people who have disappeared. His law enforcement is spotty so he must have an agenda that pushes him to prioritize one case over another, and that agenda must be that the Institute is pulling his strings.

"Which… could have been true. I'd only been in Diamond City a few days, I didn't even know what normal looked like. So even though the Suffolk County School of Law graduate in me had thought the word 'libel' when reading _The Synthetic Truth_ I didn't know enough to bring it up. Also, I liked Piper and didn't want to lose a new friend.

"Piper thought it would be better if I talked to the mayor by myself so she and Dogmeat waited at the bottom of the rickety elevator to the mayor's office high up in the stands. The elevator was a little scary but from the top I could see why the mayor wanted to live up here. You can see all of Diamond City from the top tier, and out over the wall at the tottering bombed-out skyscrapers. You can see the whole world.

"The mayor's secretary Geneva smiled at me with very red lips and said the mayor was happy to see members of the public as long as they weren't journalists. Piper had also just told me the mayor was having an affair with his secretary, though how that worked with being a synth I wasn't sure.

"The mayor greeted me effusively, said he envied me seeing the place for the first time. He looked like an ordinary man, and had that ordinary shaving soap smell. Talked like a politician. Gave me a speech about the importance of security and private property instead of giving me the key. Even when I said I was working with Valentine to find my missing son he didn't change his mind.

"No wonder Piper thought this guy was so fake, he was so cheerfully unhelpful.

"So I… used the magic of cold hard caps. Bribed the secretary. Not sure what I would've done if that hadn't worked.

"I told Piper the story on our way to get Valentine at his place, then we went to look around Kellogg's house.

It was a tiny place. Rusty metal walls, metal floor, I bet it was freezing in the winter. There was just one room with an even tinier loft with a cot and a sleeping bag. "Two beds! Handcuffs, why did he have handcuffs?" They were on a table with a water pitcher and cups, normal stuff plus handcuffs. That was a little worrying, but the sleeping bag suggested a child might have lived there.

"This place look small to you?" Valentine asked from down below. It did, but I was used to prewar houses where everyone had their own room. Piper didn't seem to think it was strange.

"The two of them started looking through a box of files while Dogmeat sniffed at the beds. I came down from the loft, behind the room's desk. So I saw the wires back there. "Hey, there's something here." I found a button tucked up under the desk and pushed it.

"A section of the wall scraped open and there was another room, filled with shelves and cabinets. Valentine went through first and scanned the shelves. "Well lookit this, all a merc's favorite things."

"I saw ammo boxes and tools, someone had been modifying guns here. There was food on the shelves too, and some glowing bottles. Nuka-cola Quantum! They make the best night lights, but don't drink them.

"I was trying to look at everything at once, looking for some sign my son had been there. But there was nothing. No toys, no Silver Shroud posters on the wall, no lunchbox or schoolwork, no small clothes. Just the sleeping bag. "

Shaun is sitting nearby with _The Big Book of Science for Kids_ open on his lap, half-listening to us as he reads. He pipes up, "I had toys and clothes. Kellogg prob'ly sold them after I left."

Curious I ask, "Was Kellogg nice to you?"

"Mmhm. He was a bad man but he made sure we had food and made me go to school. Always said stuff like, 'I'm not your dad, I'm just looking after you until your mother or father comes to get you. So shove off, kid.' I think he did like me a little bit but I'm glad Mom found me. it's better living here with everybody."

"Thanks, Shaun. Dogmeat helped with the next part of finding you. Turns out Kellogg had a favorite brand of beer and cigars, really stinky cigars. Dogmeat sniffed at them and then at the floor, then he pawed the door.

"Valentine said, "Wasteland mutt like him, bet he can follow a scent even as old as this one is. Grab your traveling gear and let's follow him and see."

"Dogmeat did seem to know where he was going. He led us out of the dreary apartment and was headed out of Diamond City while Piper and I rushed to Publick Occurrences to get the rest of our stuff. Valentine can walk across the wasteland without needing to bring food and water, but we couldn't. I did try to tell piper she didn't have to come, but she wasn't having it.

"You kidding, Blue? I'm not missing this! I'll be back before the next issue has to be out!"

"Nat seemed to be used to her sister doing this, she just waved to us and said now she'd get to eat noodles every meal.

"It was good that we started in the morning, because it was a long trek. Dogmeat led us along the train tracks for miles. There were some feral ghouls along the way, and my first glowing molerat which made me embarrass myself which made me embarrass myself by yelling, "What the hell?" really loudly in the middle of a fight. At least we had plenty of time after that for my new friends to tell me about ghouls, including the important difference between feral ghouls and ordinary ones, and that ghouls aren't welcome in Diamond City which was why I hadn't seen any yet.

"We found some robots Kellogg must have destroyed along the way. They must have done some damage back since we found bloody bandages hanging on a fence a little farther on. And then Dogmeat sniffed his way up a hill and into town and to the front of Fort Hagan.

"I'd been there. Recently, right before Shaun was born Nate and I went to some kind of military reunion at Fort Hagan. I think the military was hoping that people who'd done their tour would get nostalgic and reenlist, but Nate just wanted to hang out with his buddies from the 108th and show me off. The whole reason I learned to shoot a gun was that one of the guys said women can't join the army because they can't shoot and Nate bet a whole night of drinks that his wife could learn by next month. So he took me to the range and I loved it and now Nate had a 'cute, deadly, pregnant' wife who'd won drinks for everyone to show off at the reunion. That was a fun party, even if I couldn't drink because of the baby.

"So there we were, the door I remembered walking through wearing my best dress that hardly fit since I was big as a whale. Only now the door was boarded up and piled with boxes that Dogmeat was pawing at and barking. Kellogg must have gone through this door, but nobody was going through it now.

"We had to find another way in. I turned left, headed for the parking garage. There had to be another door there, so people could get out to their cars when it rained. We found a bunch of dead cars and piled junk, and eventually a door. It was locked but Valentine managed this lock. He peeked in then pulled back and closed the door. "Can't tell what's in there, but if it's Kellogg he may have friends, and if it's the Institute there may be a lot of synths. I know you're not backing down Em, but maybe the nosy reporter should."

"What are you saying about my shooting, Valentine?"

"I'm saying it's dangerous and you have a kid sister waiting for you."

"I can handle myself! But you're right. I'll keep Dogmeat with me and we'll hang back, let you two handle most of the bad guys. Jump in if you get overwhelmed."

And then there was this moment when everyone checks their gun, pats the pocket with the extra ammo, settles their armor more solidly. I've had that moment many times since then with different people at my side, but that's the first time I really noticed it as a thing. Making sure your leg bracer isn't going to dig into your ankle if you crouch, putting the helmet strap under your chin instead of behind your head so the thing doesn't fall down over your face. Gun loaded, ammo accessible, safety on but ready to take it off. Ready to go.

The place was a maze, and it was full of synths. I saw the first one just as it walked out of sight, the shape of a human walking casually from one room to another. I froze, knowing whoever was in here wouldn't be friendly. A moment later it walked back.

Gen-twos are really creepy. Human shape, but the torso is this open cage full of machinery. They don't move right, they don't move like humans. Yellow eyes, but Nick's got yellow eyes and he isn't nearly so unnerving.

We spent way too long clearing the public floors, and I know Piper found even more synths because we heard shots from other rooms too. Finally realized there was no place to go but down into the utility tunnels under the building. It looked like someone had cleared the worst of the rubble out of the halls, and someone had moved in some turrets.

Then a voice said, "Well if it isn't my old friend the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met you were cuddling up to the peas and apple cobbler."

Kellogg's voice. I gasped and looked around wildly. Didn't see the intercom, but there must have been one. Valentine, sounding completely calm, said, "Well he knows we're here. Look out!" As an electric trap shot lightning down in front of me. We waited for it to run out of juice and went around a corner.

"Walk away." Kellogg's voice said.

This time I looked up and saw the speaker. Could he hear me? "No." I said.

"Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years, but I don't need a roommate. Leave."

"Don't let him rattle you." Valentine said, and opened the next door.

A few steps past it Kellogg spoke again. "Huh. Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave it fifty-fifty odds you'd even make it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky."

But it did rattle me, because the next synth got me in the arm with some kind of shock stick and I had to spend precious minutes shaking numbness from my hand.

We came out on the edge of a big space, mostly blocked off by glass walls. Most of the lights were out, and we couldn't see anything behind the glass. Our hall was half full of rubble and Nick said, "Some folks never lose their fondness for living in the basement." Half a dozen synths were already living in this one, and I was already starting to get tired.

"Look, you're pissed off, I get it, I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here, it's not going to go your way."

I didn't answer.

More synths. Valentine hollering, "Do you really want this to be the last mug you see?" Using a stimpack, then another one. More shooting behind us as Piper took out some stragglers. More stairs down.

"You got guts and determination, that's admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you cannot possibly comprehend." Kellogg was the ghost in the walls, and he almost sounded… real. Like he wasn't just taunting me. But I couldn't really stop and think, because I had to duck behind a door to reload. I leaned out to fire and saw my bullet go right through a synth's open chest, barely touching the machinery that filled it.

"It's not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option, not a lot of people can say that."

I'd just taken a hit of med-x when those words came down from the ceiling, and my head was swimming from the drug and the way my leg felt on fire after a near miss from a synth pistol. Again I thought Kellogg sounded like he really was warning me. Valentine paused next to me to reload. "We survive this, I owe you a stiff drink. Now look out, every time he flaps his gums it means we're about to hit a trap."

Nick was right; two laser turrets sank from the ceiling and opened up on us. But beyond them we found what had to be Kellogg's apartment. Clean rooms, a bed and a couch and a kitchen that might once have been the break room for employees. No sign of a child, but there hadn't been in Diamond City either. Another room with a sofa and a big desk, and a third with a hospital bed and a very white table and chair. I remembered the hazard suit the woman who took Shaun had been wearing. I hadn't seen real clean, bright white in a while.

A speaker crackled. Kellogg sounded resigned. "All right, you made it. I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk." The last door in the room clicked open.

Piper and Dogmeat caught up with us then. "Is that Kellogg? He sounds like a kidnapper. We're fine and the path outside is clear if we need to get out in a hurry. You going in?" Piper said, reloading as she spoke.

So was Valentine, metal hands flashing over his revolver. "We'll stay back, follow your lead. Let you talk to Kellogg."

I nodded. I was tired and hurt and keyed up and I couldn't reload without looking just then, though I'd been doing it for the last few hours. I went for the door, up a few steps, and lights started coming on above me.

Kellogg was waiting. Smiling. "There she is, the most resilient woman in the Commonwealth."

We were surrounded by synths, but their guns were down so I slowly lowered mine as I took a few steps forward. The world narrowed to Kellogg and me. "Where's my baby?"

And Kellogg gave a little sigh, a little shrug like he really did feel sorry for me. "I'm a puppet like you. My stage is just a little bigger, that's all."

"What do-"

"Shaun's a good kid. A bit older than you expected, am I right? But he's doing great. Only… he's not here. He's with the people pulling the strings."

"Then take me to him." I said, my gun coming up again.

Kellogg laughed. A tired laugh but a real one. "Take you to him? Don't you get it? Your son, he's in a place nobody can reach. You came all this way but there's no reunion waiting and I am truly, sincerely sorry about that. At least you'll get to die knowing he's safe and happy, in a loving home. The Institute."

It was so quiet I heard Piper gasp. Kellogg didn't even glance at her. He kept looking at me with a sort of resigned pity. Like he was telling a hard truth he'd rather not have to tell.

Like nobody had a choice. "Then I'll find the Institute."

"You don't find the Institute, the Institute finds you. No matter how many times you open the closet door you won't find the monster. Until it jumps out at you. I did tell you to walk away, but since you didn't… there's really only one way this can end."

And he shot me. My world exploded in pain and a blurred impression of Valentine dragging me out of the way and hitting me with a stimpack while Piper covered us.

And then we shot a bunch more synths, it's kind of a blur. I don't even know who finished off Kellogg in the end but when the shooting stopped he was on the ground with half his head blown away.

I moaned and scooted as far back from the body as I could get, putting a desk between me and the corpse. I could still hear Kellogg's voice in my head. _Shaun's a good kid… safe and happy..._I hadn't wanted him dead, I wanted to ask him more questions. But Kellogg wasn't going to let that happen.

Piper threw up. But she has nerves of steel and a minute later she was offering me Kellogg's pistol. "You want it?"

"No." I choked. The gun that killed my husband, and put a hole in me just a minute ago. _I'm a puppet, like you._

Valentine was looking closer at the body, the last thing I wanted to do. "Kellogg had some strange cybernetics. The man was halfway to being a synth himself! Even his brain..."

Piper twitched. "Oh god Valentine, what are you looking at that over there? Can we look for clues fast and leave? I would like to leave. Our friend don't look so good."

"I'm fine." I said. I wasn't. I didn't even know what fine would look like after this. _There's no reunion waiting._

Some minutes passed. Valentine finished whatever he was doing with Kellogg's body and he and Piper checked every drawer and terminal in the room for clues and I sat leaning on Dogmeat and listening to Kellogg's voice repeat in my head and wondering if I'd had too much med-x or not enough.

"I think some of the turrets downstairs might have rebooted but we've got a clear path to the roof. Let's go."

So we waded through the broken synths back up to the public part of the building to the roof access. Dogmeat carried a synth arm most of the way, not sure why I remember that. There was some delay at the door, fumbling with the terminal to unlock it. I was not feeling well but I assumed Piper was just as exhausted and in pain, Nick too if synths got exhausted.

The door opened and the fresh air of a Commonwealth night poured in, along with a thunderous roar. My mind took a long minute to place the sound: a hot air balloon?

Valentine was the first outside and he rasped, "Oh my god."

I stepped out the door and spotlights flashed around us.

It was an airship, so massive and loud it felt like it had its own gravity, like I could fall up from the roof towards it. And I was overjoyed because it meant someone somewhere had the technology to build this beautiful thing with its lights and the smaller aircraft unfolding from its sides and flying away in a buzz of rotors.

"What… is that..?" I said, turning to keep the ship in sight and stumbling into Piper.

Under the roar of the ship I heard Valentine reciting something while he too gaped up at the thing in the sky. Then an amplified voice boomed from the airship.

"Deep into the darkness peering."

"People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful."

"Long I stood there, wondering, fearing..."

"We are the Brotherhood of Steel."

_My stage is just a little bigger, that's all._

The words ran together in my head, the lights went sideways, and down I went.


	29. Fever

Begin Recording

Fever

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Well when we finished our last recording I was passing out after talking to Kellogg, fighting my way through a building full of synths, and seeing the Prydwen sail overhead. I'd been shot, and it turns out that my salvaged bits of armor weren't doing enough to protect me from the synths' energy weapons.

A direct hit with a laser pistol can cut a limb right off, that's what happened to little Maya. But a near miss, unless you're wearing the right armor, can leave you with something that amounts to second degree sunburn. I was well and truly toasted and just now realizing it.

So I got sick. My friends had to haul me home. But when we reached the main road there was Carla on her way back up to Sanctuary. A gang of super mutants had moved in behind her and blocked the path back to Diamond city. But Carla was happy to load my delirious carcass on her brahmin since she could come back and loot Fort Hagan later.

Brahmin pack harness is made with a sort of shelf that hangs off the side of the brahmin, usually it's just loaded with scrap but it can be used as a stretcher which is why it's standard. But wobbling across the wasteland with a fever and killer sunburn spots all over you is a special kind of hell. At least the pip-boy reported that my vital organs weren't in danger. I'd live, I'd just hate life for a few days.

Oh, and a yao guai attacked once. That was fun.

Sometimes I could pay enough attention to listen to my friends talking as they walked along on either side of the brahmin.

"Wish I could've seen Mayor McDonough's face when that thing went overhead! I've only seen a vertibird once before and it had, what, six?"

"Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth like that. Mark my words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war." Valentine rasped, and I saw the amusement fade from Piper's face.

I lifted my head to ask, "With who?"

"Well that is the question. Diamond City isn't interested in expanding, the Gunners aren't big enough to justify that show of force. The only power in the Commonwealth worth fighting is the one we can't fight."

_The Institute_. Kellogg said in my memory. I wished he'd shut up, but with my brain frying like an egg no wonder memory kept slipping in. I sat up enough to grab a water bottle and drink, and my head spun demanding I get flat again.

Piper was saying, "The Institute? It's not like people haven't tried. What makes the Brotherhood think they'll have better luck, I wonder. Just because they have a big impressive airship? Hmm. Sorry Blue, I don't want to leave you while you're sick but I think Nick and I should head right back to Diamond City to find out what's going on."

I waved a limp hand at them. "No, you should. If anyone else is going after the Institute… Hey, do me a favor. Both of you, write down what Kellogg said. Maybe there's some clue and my memory's not all here. And tell me what the Brotherhood of Steel is."

Piper passed her notebook to Valentine so he could write. "They're knights in shining power armor."

Carla dropped back to walk next to me. "The Brotherhood did some good things in the Capital Wasteland. Cleaned up all the water so now the Capital exports clean water in barrels."

Valentine said, "Not a lot of Brotherhood presence in the Commonwealth—until now. I've heard they're obsessed with technology, collecting it and not sharing it. That they like to decide what technology everybody else gets to have. Miss Carla, have you traded with the Brotherhood?"

Carla chuckled at the 'Miss' and said, "I guess that's true. Brotherhood don't trade much with me. They want things like military circuit boards, things I don't find much in trashcans."

The conversation turned to the loot in Fort Hagan and whether the dead synths would still be there or if the Institute would have collected them. I wasn't up to any more thinking. I turned to face the warm cow-smelling side of the brahmin and waited for the misery to end.

It did. After a day and a night and one guai attack we arrived in Sanctuary and unloaded me into the care of Doc Jenna. Who gave me some good chems and put me to bed.

When I finally felt better I was in my own bed, or at least my own cot in my own room with two pillows and Dogmeat's bed in the corner. The windows were still covered with boards which at that time was a good thing. Someone had left me cornbread and water, and someone had filled Dogmeat's dish because I heard him slurping away in the other room. I stood up, and at last didn't immediately feel like I was about to fall over. I wasn't shivery or sweaty or both at once, and I decided I was well enough to walk up to the vault if it meant a hot bath. I could lean on Dogmeat if I got wobbly.

Outside Preston caught me. "Feeling better? Interesting friends you brought back from Diamond City. They headed back with Carla, but not before Piper offered to recruit for the Minutemen in her paper. I told her maybe later."

I smiled. "Piper's a bit..."

"'To the man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail'?" Preston suggested.

"Yes. That."

"Valentine left you a letter, it's in the top drawer in your room. Doc Jenna wants to see you and we just got hot water piped to the hospital so you don't have to climb the hill."

"Oh good. I smell like a sweaty brahmin and I can't stand it anymore. I'll find you later." I did all the washing up and showing the doctor my vital signs stuff and got some more food and went home to find the letter.

Em- We're headed back to Diamond City to see what we can find out. Once you're vertical again I'm sure you'll want to get back on the case and I'm glad to help. It may feel like we didn't get much from Kellogg, but we got closer to learning real facts about the Institute than anyone else has. Because of you. If we could find the Institute it'd close a lot of cold cases, not just yours so I'm happy to follow as far as you want to go on this.

I want to investigate the tech I pried out of Kellogg's skull. I have a few ideas but it'll take time. Piper wants to get an exclusive on the Brotherhood's arrival so she's tracking that airship east.

There is one other group that might know something about the Institute. The Railroad is supposedly a group that steals synths and frees them. They're even more mythical than the Institute and may not exist, but if you'd like to look them up there is a phrase that's supposedly a clue to contact the Railroad.

...and I'm not going to tell it to you, because Elder Maxson wants to hunt the Railroad down and kill everyone in it. Even though Maxson isn't your elder I bet he could make you tell him. Hell, I bet he'd dangle you off the Prydwen and threaten to cut the rope. So everything I tell you about the Railroad will be heavily edited. In fact I think I'll tell you about meeting the Railroad some other time and the next tape can be about what Nick found in Kellogg's head. Yeah, that's the clue that led somewhere.


	30. General

Begin Recording

General

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The General is sitting with books and has been every evening after the day's work is done. Her desk is under the garage at her house so she can work while watching the life of the settlement.

This evening the entertainment is the children having a costume parade. It isn't Halloween but Mama Murphy finished sewing costumes for the two new children so they've decided to show off. Shaun is dressed as the Silver Shroud, in an only slightly oversized outfit. Shiloh is the Mistress of Mystery in a gray sequin dress cut down to fit her. Jimmy is Grognak but he's wearing the loincloth over his clothes, refusing to be cold for the sake of authenticity. Kaynah's made her own inspector outfit with a magnifying glass. She tried to get baby boomer into a bat-baby costume but Marci long wasn't having it. Adam and Jill are Manta-man and Manta-girl, and seem all right with it since their characters were bitten by a radioactive manta ray.

When I get back to Arlington library I have to see if the manta ray was a real animal. Seems unlikely, but elephants were real so one never knows.

Little Maya is dressed like a princess and riding her Giddyup Buttercup. Or she would be, except that the metal horse is on three legs while Shaun fixes its fourth. The parade is stalled while he cleans and oils the joint and reattaches the leg. He tightens a screw and says, 'Ok Maya, he's fixed."

Shiloh looks down her nose at the scene with the great maturity of a ten year old over a toddler. "I want a _real_ horse. Or a synth horse. I told Mom to ask the Institute to make me a synth horse but they didn't."

Em yawns. "The Institute doesn't have any horse dna; they can't make a synth horse..."

I ask Shiloh, "Did you ride that Buttercup when you were little?"

"Huh. I was never that little. Mom found that toy and brought it back. She always brings Maya things."

"I bring you things too. I brought you that dress. Here, Mistress of Mystery, come read this and see if it makes sense."

Since my whole job is reading things I ask, "What are you working on?"

"You can read it too, I need to know if it's clear enough. I'm trying to make myself obsolete! The Minutemen are growing and it won't be long until I can't make all the decisions myself. So I'm writing a charter. How to choose the next general, how many settlements over how much area mean we should move to having two generals, just what the general's powersare and aren't, and all that. I think I'd rather face a savage deathclaw, it'd be less pressure."

I ask, "How did you become the General?"

"I was the only candidate!" she laughs. "When I met up with Preston he was the only one left but he was determined to rebuild the Minutemen. I'd gone out to help two settlements, the Abernathy's and Tenpines, so they knew me as the face of the Minutemen and Preston thought we should use that and make me the new General. I said I had no idea how to lead an army but if we could make 'General' mean 'Figurehead' I'd do it. I did not know what I was getting into!"

"I'm surprised Garvey didn't nominate himself."

"I thought he should, as the last survivor carrying on, but he said the Minutemen needed someone who hadn't seen everything fall apart. I think Preston just… didn't have it in him after Quincey. And there I was, naive and ready to help everybody and the only one of us who could be spared to run around the Commonwealth rescuing people and trying to recruit them. If I'd known that 'General' would turn out to mean 'errand girl for the whole damn Commonwealth'… and now here I am, in charge. After I finish this I'm going to start on a system of laws for the Commonwealth so maybe the settlers won't come ask me to mediate every dispute."

The parade is back on, and Shiloh and Kaynah are dancing and singing a song about an armchair. Mama Murphy claps from her armchair, so that must be why the song. Jimmy hollers, "Shut up or I'll club you!" and little Maya wails that she's the princess and this is her parade which gets the girls back on track. The parade passes: seven kids, one metal horse, and two dogs, and everyone applauds.


	31. Memory

Begin Recording

Memory

Recording by Scribe Ellison

So Nick found out about a Dr. Amari at a place called the Memory Den, who he thought could get information from the tech he pulled out of Kellogg's head. The place is in Goodneighbor. Which is a real pain to find from just a map marker. I finally found the door and… Goodneighbor. Where the first person you meet tries to sell you a protection racket and the second person you meet stabs the first one to death. And he's a ghoul in a red coat and tricorn, and he's the mayor. But he recognized me as, "You must be Nick Valentine's friend. Don't let this little incident taint your view of our little community. Goodneighbor is by the people, for the people. Stay cool and you'll do fine. As long as you remember who's in charge."

"Got it." I said, hoping I did.

Goodneighbor is home to a lot of ghouls, the first intelligent ghouls I'd met. I managed not to scream, to the surprise of Daisy the ghoul shopkeeper.

We had a moment, talking about before the war. The green grass. It was not a long conversation because we were both in danger of crying.

Finding out there really were people still alive from before the war lifted my spirits after seeing the mayor murder somebody. I was thinking there must be ghoul doctors and dentists, architects. People who knew how to make all the things that had been lost with the old world. Maybe the Minutemen could recruit them.

I was right, somewhat anyway. Doc Jenna's teacher was a ghoul who did emergency medicine before the war. We have a ghoul dentist too, he lives at The Slog most of the time and he's the richest guy in the settlement.

The Memory Den is in an old theater, with the red marquee still up and posters still outside. Inside, more red, red walls, red sofas and the 'memory loungers' that look… a little like a submarine in a comic book, they're chairs with glass canopies that close over them. One had a man sitting in it, asleep. The proprietress, Irma, greeted me with a smile and a warning not to get Nick into trouble. I recognized the same affection Ellie held for Nick, that I was starting to feel as well. Nick's… I see you're skeptical about synths but Nick is something special.

He was downstairs talking to Dr. Amari, who sounded uncertain. She got more excited when she saw the implant and learned it was from someone connected to the Institute.

Nick's idea was that Amari would wire the implant to_ him_.

"That won't hurt you?" I asked immediately.

"Aw, I'm past my sell-by date anyway. And we've got a missing kid on the line and inside knowledge of the Institute, the biggest secret in the Commonwealth. This is worth the risk."

So Amari tried attaching the thing but Nick couldn't get anything but static. Amari said he'd be all right but it seemed pretty uncomfortable for Nick. I was suddenly wishing there was a better way, one that didn't put my friend in danger.

Then Amari suggested that two minds might be able to make sense of what was in the implant. With two memory loungers synced together Nick could read the memories on the implant and I'd experience them. Which would probably be safe for both of us.

But first Dr. Amari wanted me to take a memory lounger for a spin to calibrate it to my brainwaves or something. This wasn't tech I knew, this memory stuff hadn't been around before the war, so I had no idea what to expect when I sat down in the funny chair. But if it was going to get me closer to Shaun I'd do it.

The clear cover closed down over me and I watched Dr. Amari fiddling with something on a terminal. From a speaker her voice said, "Memories involving other people are the easiest, events involving loved ones. Does anything come to mind?"

I suddenly wondered if it might work. "...my husband."

"All right. Let's see what we can find. You just relax and watch the screen."

The world went white and then I was somewhere else. A classroom, it was so clear I could smell that school smell and see the textbook and brand new notebook on my desk. And just like when it really happened the cute guy I'd never had an excuse to talk to at the gym sat down next to me and I was just as happy as the first time.

"This book's two inches thick, do we have to read it all this semester? I'm Nate Mason."

"Emily Rhonda." I managed, probably not blushing.

"What brings you to Criminal Justice 101, Emily Rhonda?"

"A law career, I hope. If I can get through the textbook. How about you?"

"Military scholarship..."

My vision was bleaching out again and I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. I was back in the memory lounger looking at a screen that had gone to static. "Wait! Send me back!" I said before the lounger's top opened up and everything about where I was came back to me. Memory Den. Trying to look into the memories of Nate's killer. "Oh wow, that was..."

Dr. Amari smiled. "It's something isn't it. Before you ask, memory loungers are perfectly safe for a few hours, _once __or twice a year_. If used too often the neural stimulation degrades the brain's ability to form new memories."

I nodded and translated, "I can't just spend all my time..."

"Everybody has a moment they want to make last forever. Now, we've got a good picture of your brainwaves, we can start looking into this implant as soon as you're ready."

Nick waved from the other memory lounger, he looked a lot calmer about this than I felt considering he was the one about to risk his brain. "Let's do this."

I needed a minute and a glass of water then I said, "Ok. I'm ready." And the memory lounger closed and everything faded white then black.

I don't remember most of what I saw. It's like a dream, the details fade but the feeling hangs around like a bad taste in your mind. But I was apparently talking the whole time, Dr. Amari has a holotape of me sounding stoned and describing bits of Kellogg's life. It was a really tragic life. Abusive childhood, then his wife and daughter were killed and he didn't come back from it. Stopped hoping for something better and started just surviving.

Once he'd turned into something more gun than man the Institute found him. A woman in white and three skeletal, early synths. Kellogg had the 'skills' they needed to work on the surface so he became their human hit man for things they couldn't do with the gen-one synths.

Then I ended up in his memory of the vault. _Those_ memories didn't fade so much, wish they would. Maybe that's just trauma. So I experienced Kellogg's feelings as he came to steal something the Institute needed. He didn't even know what they were after.

The Institute scientists killed my neighbors, they shut down the other cryo-pods. Kellogg didn't know why. He shot Nate—out of pity. Kellogg knew what it felt like to outlive your child, and pity moved him to murder instead of finding another way. He wanted to kill me too out of the same pity. And fear. He was afraid of me, he knew how he felt about his child's killers and was afraid of that same rage coming for him.

Having all those feelings dumped in my head was not pleasant. I wanted to throw up with my brain. From the outside world Dr. Amari said my heart rate was rising and did I think I could handle one more memory. I presume I answered because I found myself in Kellogg's house in Diamond City.

With Shaun. He was sitting on the floor reading through a pile of medical magazines, just like he's probably sitting reading somewhere in sanctuary right now.

Kellogg was thinking about plans and being 'bait' and 'The Old Man.' The old Man sent him here as bait, the Old Man was setting him up to be killed by… me? I was trying to make sense of Kellogg's thoughts, so many words that didn't carry enough meaning, that I was startled when the synth entered the scene. A gen-three, looked like a muscular man in a long black coat. A courser, I learned more about them later. Elite soldier synths.

The courser was bringing a new assignment to track down a scientist who'd 'gone rogue.' Someone had escaped the Institute. Doctor Brian Virgil, I guess I said the name over and over to make sure Amari caught it. He'd fled to the Glowing Sea and Kellogg had to go kill him so the courser was going to take Shaun away.

Shaun said, "You're taking me to my father?" I just wanted to hear his voice again.

The courser said, "Yes. Please stand next to me and hold still." Shaun didn't seem troubled by its robotic speech, and didn't seem terribly upset when he said goodbye to Kellogg. I got a rush of sadness from Kellogg that he didn't show. He'd liked Shaun, he hadn't wanted to but… you try living with that kid and not liking him.

Then Shaun and the courser vanished in a double blast of lightning.

"Teleportation!" Doctor Amari's voice said excitedly. "That explains why nobody can find the entrance to the Institute! There _is_ no entrance! I'm ready to get you out of there, as soon as you're ready."

I was ready. I wanted to see my son, but not through Kellogg's poisonous mind. I jolted myself awake and nearly toppled out of the memory lounger. Amari was there telling me to take it slow and checking my vital signs. She said I was fine, but I felt like I'd just woken up from a nightmare.

My next question was, "Is Nick all right?"

"I unplugged him while you were waking up. He seems to have suffered no ill effects and went upstairs to wait with Irma. Are you going to look for Brian Virgil in the Glowing Sea?"

"I guess I'll have to. What's the Glowing Sea?"

I will let you imagine Doctor Amari's expression of dismay! She had to tell my poor fresh-out-of-the-vault self that the Glowing sea is the irradiated land around the bomb crater. She talked about protective suits and antiradiation chems.

Thinking about that… well, the other option was to sink into despair. The Institute had teleportation, impossible tech, straight out of a comic book and they had it. Shaun really was somewhere I couldn't reach. The only comfort was that he hadn't seemed scared, and he'd mentioned a father. He had a family. But I couldn't give up until I saw him again and knew for sure that he was all right. So I'd figure out how to walk across a bombed out wasteland and not die.

But not now. Now I wanted food and a drink and a quiet sit-down somewhere that wasn't the Memory Den.

I found Nick sitting on a sofa just inside the door waiting patiently. "Hey, Nick."

Kellogg's voice said, "Hope you found what you were looking for inside my head. I was right, I should've killed you when you were on ice."

My heart skipped a beat. "...Kellogg? Is that you?"

Then, thank god, Nick spoke in his own voice. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You sounded like Kellogg just then."

"Amari said there might be some mnemonic impressions. But anyway I feel fine, so let's get going. Back to Diamond City?"

"Yes. I need noodles and we need to figure out how to walk through the Glowing Sea."

Nick was fine, he never spoke with Kellogg's voice again, but we were halfway back to Diamond City before my heartrate slowed down.

We collected Piper and Nat and I got my noodles and a beer. Piper grumbled a lot about how she hadn't gotten anywhere investigating the Brotherhood of Steel. She'd tracked the airship to the Boston airport but, "A bunch of suits of power armor told me to go away."

Valentine rasped, "The Brotherhood wanted us to know they come in peace but they don't seem to want us to know much else."

Piper nodded and pointed her chopsticks back towards Publick Occurences, "Not to sound like Myrna but maybe we shouldn't talk too long out here."

While we crossed the market slurping noodles Nat gave me the rundown on the Glowing Sea. "It's so irradiated you glow just walking past! It's full of deathclaws and giant radscorpions! There's a huge army of ferals that's going to come out and get us one of these days! And those nutty Children of Atom live there!"

"They do?" I asked around a mouthful of noodles.

Piper said, "Probably not for very long."

"I've heard of it too. There's supposed to be a cult that lives in the crater itself. I don't see how." Nick rasped.

But if there really were people in the Glowing Sea maybe they would know where this Doctor Virgil was hiding. That made the idea seem almost possible. "Does anyone have a map?"

"Of the Glowing Sea? No." But Piper spread out a map of the Commonwealth. It was on several pieces of paper that had to be laid out in the right order, and looked like someone might have traced a prewar map and then added symbols. The roads outside of Boston were clear but there were large blank spaces labeled 'Ruins' and 'Swamp' and a big patch in the southwest labeled 'The Glowing Sea.' This was the best map available but it wasn't as much as I needed. That was a bid space. I turned on my Pip-boy's map function and we spent a long time comparing the two maps and adding the common caravan routes to my Pip-boy. Caravan routes are good to know; if you're on one when a monster takes you down someone might come along in time to rescue you.

Eventually Nick said, "I should be the one to go. I'm a synth; radiation doesn't bother me."

I shook my head. "You just risked your brain for me, I'm not letting you risk your life too. People here need you. This is too dangerous for—well, anyone, but I'm going to go. Just me."

I thought Nick would argue but he nodded. "Then you'll need a really good suit, better than anything you can buy in Diamond City. I wonder if Piper's new friends can help you."

"The Brotherhood is famous for hoarding tech and wearing power armor. Maybe they'd sell you some if you made friends. Not being a journalist might help." Piper grumbled.

I had another idea. Nate got a lot of military directives in the mail and I read a lot of it because I read everything in our house while stuck there on maternity leave. Some of the papers were still around including a map of checkpoints that active duty members were supposed to report to in event of an invasion. Sensible places to look for power armor. Somehow or other I'd find what I needed, and Sturges could cobble it together. But it would take time.

And it did, months before I visited the Glowing Sea. Lots of things happened during those months, mostly helping settlements and the Railroad, and I met the Brotherhood, and I counted every day as one more day of Shaun's life that I was missing.


	32. The Odd Troop

**Much about how gen-three synths work and what the Institute's plan for them was in this story will not match what's in the game, because the lore in the game is pretty scanty and doesn't always make sense. Even watching Oxhorn's meticulously researched videos didn't give me a useful canon! So I scrapped that and went with the rules that grew in my head as I played the game. Please accept this large lampshade with "well this is an AU" written on it.**

Begin Recording

The Odd Troop

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Brother and sister scribes, I have met my first synth! The whole day was worth recording so I will edit in footage and commentary from the morning on.

Young Adam is in the habit of blessing his breakfast of sugar bombs and dried mutfruit flakes by making an elaborate gesture over his food and saying, "With this sign I take in the glow."

For whatever reason this morning the ritual annoys Shiloh who shoots back, "Taking in the glow just gives you the shits!"

"Shiloh, language."

"But Mom! It's so dumb!"

The General leans back from her table and reaches out to physically squelch her daughter by pushing down on her head. "Being mean to your friends at breakfast time is dumb too if you're hoping they'll help you with the waterwheel later."

Shiloh pouts, visibly does the math, and says, "Sorry Adam. Maybe I don't understand about the glow, want to tell me about it while we work on the waterwheel later?" and peace among the kids is restored.

Em rolls her eyes and smiles.

The whole population of Sanctuary eats more or less together, in their houses if the weather's bad but on fine mornings the outdoor tables are crammed with people planning the day's tasks while fueling up. Breakfast is cornbread, razorgrain bread, butter and mutfruit jam, cheese, or a cereal made of flakes of dried mutfruit. Occasionally a preserved box of Sugar Bombs makes an appearance but that's mostly for the children. I tried a bowl and found them disgustingly sweet.

The General is ostensibly in charge of work assignments but she doesn't usually need to bother. The morning conversation includes mention of anything that needs doing and plans will be made to address the problem. Most of the work is gardening and preserving the harvest but there are also many tasks keeping the buildings in good repair and caring for the local wild brahmin herd. Everyone also tries to get some kind of combat training in, either swinging a bat at a dummy or shooting at targets or skeet. Today the pitching machine that pitches balls of dried mud out over the river is broken and there's a call to fix it so everyone can practice.

The siren rings the all-clear to let us know a friendly visitor has been sighted. People who have finished eating amble over to see who it is. Em heads for the bridge to meet the visitors and I follow.

Shaun seems to have skipped breakfast to help Sturges take apart the pitching machine. We hear his piping voice talking excitedly about springs and gears as the two of them work.

The approaching visitors are a troop of Minutemen in drab uniforms and the official hat with the brim curved up for a sunny day in the Commonwealth. One of them pulls off her hat to reveal bright auburn hair.

The General passes me to hug the young woman. "You look great."

"I'm not sure about this uniform and I'm not calling you General."

"Never thought you would." Em says, laughing. "Is the job ok at least?"

Her friend has the strangest way of speaking, the words twist and rasp. "I get paid good caps to whip new recruits into shape. It's very ok. This's my troop! Percy ye know and that's Rueben and the ghoul is Luce. I brought a present for Mama Murphy!"

"Yeah? She's over by the food. Hi Percy!"

"General!" Percy is a dark skinned earnest young man with a strong resemblance to Preston Garvey. I wonder if they're brothers, or father and son.

The auburn-haired girl says, "Who's the skinny little nerd with the holorecorder?"

"That's Scribe Ellison, he's up from the Capital to learn from us and he's probably recording. Don't scare him. This is Cait, she teaches combat at the Castle."

The girl looks it, she's muscular under her uniform and carrying half a dozen weapons, none of them the traditional laser musket. I don't bother to protest that I am not in fact scared, because nobody else seems to be. She waves to settlers she passes and unwraps her gift for Mama Murphy.

The old woman smiles a watery smile. "Hello, Cait."

"Brought ye sumthin', picked it up at a bookstore. Has your picture on it."

It's a box with a picture of a woman dressed in a shawl and turban just like Mama Murphy, which turns out to be full of colorful cards. Mama Murphy is delighted. "Tarot cards! I've never seen a full deck. Thank you."

"Figgured you could use these and you wouldn't need the chems. I'm Irish, so I know all about the second sight."

"Child, you don't know anything about Ireland. But someday you will."

"What? When? Mama Murphy are ye just trying to distract me? Ye need a better plan than fryin' your brain every time you want to use the sight."

Em says, "I've tried, maybe you'll have better luck."

She leaves them to it, asking Percy what the troop has seen on the walk up from the Castle, as the newcomers unload their gear. They'd seen a dolphin wash up still alive and take out two mirelurks before four more descended on it.

"So they breathe air?" Em asks like that's important.

Percy answers, "Seems so. It was still fighting after it was out of the water. Does that matter?"

"Maybe. If they breathe air then they don't have to breathe a certain kind of water so they can come up the river. So we'll have to keep an eye out. And I just want to learn more about them. Prewar dolphins were smart, smart enough to wreck our purifiers if they wanted to but maybe smart enough that we could learn from them what kinds of fish are safe to eat or where the sources of radiation underwater are, when our descendants start cleaning up the ocean."

I admire the General very much but there are moments when I believe her to be too optimistic. "Were prewar dolphins _that_ smart?"

"Mmhm. I saw it on a documentary—that's like a movie but educational. I'm surprised you and the other scribes don't make them."

I confess, "Ah, the field scribes were only assigned to collect information about weapons until recently. Elder Robinson only started broadening our mission recently, and just for a few of us."

Percy leans over to look at me, "You're collecting information?"

"Yes. Ways to do things, history, and unique personal stories."

"Would you like to hear my story? I'm unique. I'm a synth."

I jump. I don't think anyone notices because Em's saying, "Percy, one of these days you're gonna say that to the wrong person."

My fellow scribes and errant readers, I must emphasize that Percy does not look in any way unusual. He is a young man of about my own age (twenty years) with brown skin, short hair and a bright smile. He could be an overenthusiastic initiate from home. None of you would find anything amiss about him.

This is somewhat disturbing. I had heard, of course, that synths are indistinguishable from humans but I'd assumed in spite of this that there would be some sort of tell. There isn't. Not when first meeting Percy and not now, several days later when I am updating the tape before sending.

The general just says, "As long as you're weeding while you're talking. These tomato sprouts won't have a chance if they get choked out."

All three of us look at the tomato bed with resignation. Pulling tiny sprouts one at a time is a very boring job.

Percy sighs, "Maybe talking will make this go faster. You tell him how we met, General."

We put on leather armor kneepads and get started on the awkward task. The easiest way is to kneel and clear every weed in reach and then scoot to a new spot. It's hell on the back and a great job to bribe the kids to do.

"All right. Hello, Arlington Library and Megaton, here is a story for you. I was trying to hunt down a yao guai around Walden pond and I stumbled upon an underground shelter untouched since the war. It was a good day but I still had to find the guai, it had been showing signs of rabies and needed to be removed. Instead of the guai, I found this guy."

"And I said 'I'm Preston Garvey and I'm collecting donations to rebuild the Minutemen!' Because I thought I was."

"And I'd seen Preston not five hours ago and he was up to his eyeballs in reports from settlements asking for free food. No way was he out here in strange clothes pretending he didn't know me. So this guy was either a very ballsy conman or a synth. So I gave him some caps and knocked him on the head and tied him up. Sorry about that."

Percy shrugs. "It would've been someone else if it hadn't been you. So Scribe, I woke up tied hand and foot down in a bunker with this woman I just met offering me a med-x and apologizing."

"I'd already called the Railroad come see if you were a synth. That was the scary guy in sunglasses. He got there quick but he did once claim to have a working motorcycle."

I ask, "Your friend has a-?"

"He also claimed to have a tame sentrybot he rides around the Commonwealth. I haven't seen that either. So Deacon turned up and zapped poor Percy."

I throw another sprout into the bucket. "Zapped?"

Percy shudders dramatically. "It was horrrrrible."

"It's a transmitter that unlocks a synth's memories and sends the synth into a frenzy. Usually it's a pretty ugly thing, but Percy barely freaked out."

Curious I ask Percy, "What was it like?"

"Well I didn't know much before, just that I was Preston Garvey the Minuteman and since I couldn't find any other Minutemen I had to rebuild the group! Not having any other memories I assumed I got hit on the head by whatever happened to the rest of the Minutemen. Made sense. Then suddenly I remembered being pulled out of a vat at the institute and having my head stuffed full of basic survival knowledge and then before I could ask if they were going to give me any clothes now that I knew what clothes were they dumped me! Said the Minutemen were no longer a threat and they'd lost track of the 'original' anyway. They didn't need me anymore so they threw me out to wander around thinking I was Preston Garvey. Now that I realized I wasn't, I still wanted to join the Minutemen so Sunglasses escorted me to the Castle and I joined up!"

He is so cheerful it's hard to believe. The General's smiling the same way she smiles at her children, affectionate and a little bit amused.

I can't help asking, "So is Percy… Garvey?"

"No. Percy doesn't have any implanted memories. If the Institute had finished programming him maybe, but as it is they just look alike, and not so alike now because only the real Preston got older these past years." Em gets up and stretches and moves to another spot.

"I'm a little half baked, as a synth. As a person, Colonel Shaw says she's seen recruits far less baked."

Brother and sister scribes… this synth is quite likeable. I am trying to work out whether this is because he was programmed to be, to make him more of a threat to humanity and civilization, or if this is simply his genuine personality. Can a synth have a personality? I had been expecting to meet a synth and yet now that I have I am still unsure what to think. I am thankful to have a scribe's standby to fall back on: I need more information.


	33. The Crater

**Achievement unlocked: I have filled the notebook I'm writing this story in! Thankfully I have a pile of half used notebooks around so I pulled out one I last used for Ocean Girl novelization years ago.**

Begin Recording

Crater

Recording by Scribe Ellison

So we built this frankensuit… oh. Frankenstein, it's a book about a monster made from pieces of different corpses. It's a good book, one of the better ones I had to read in college. Anyway it means we pulled apart a couple of suits of power armor and put them together into one. Proctor Teagan is probably still looking for a few of the pieces. Sturges took apart a radiation suit to build into the lining of the armor and we wired in a couple of stealth-boys because the suit was so clunky and had such a small field of vision that it would be better if I didn't have to fight in it. It was a lot of technology, stuff we can't replace, and it's all rotting at the edge of the Glowing Sea because it's too radioactive to bring back.

We built in a water straw and rad-x I could get to without getting out of the suit. Because once I was in the irradiated zone I wasn't going to be able to get out of the suit, at all. Like, not even to use the bathroom. But at least the suit was shielded enough that I wouldn't have to be hooked up to a bag of radaway the whole time, which would have been a real disaster on the bathroom front. But we still had to figure out… maybe I should make a holotape about building a suit of radiation-proof power armor, but for this recording I'll just say that the General of the Minutemen has worn some very undignified things.

I paid one of our provisioners to load the suit on a brahmin and we hauled it down to Sommerville Place and I started walking west.

So the Glowing Sea… is awful. The air is thick as soup, this muddy green haze. You can't see very far. And the light is wrong. Not just because of the muck in the air, the light is orange and seems to come from the wrong direction like the ground is glowing even when you can't tell exactly where it's coming from. Walking through there kind of feels like one of those dreams you have when your room is too bright and hot.

I know you can't feel radiation but I didn't feel _well_. Being sealed in the suit I was getting sweatier and hotter in spite of the cooling system that was supposed to be venting and filtering in clean air. I set my Pip-boy map to direct me to the area of highest radiation expecting that would lead me to the crater. So there was nothing to do but walk and walk and turn on the next stealth boy when the last one ran down and walk some more.

I saw long flat plains with scattered feral ghouls staggering aimlessly back and forth. I walked straight through. None of the ferals had enough brain left to notice me through the stealth field. Over at the edge of the plain a radscorpion burst from the ground. Io swear the thing was glowing orange. It flailed around, took out a couple of ferals, and settled down to chew on them. I kept walking.

I remember pools of orange water and green lightning striking endlessly around the horizon. I saw a piece of wall sticking up from the ground, it was covered solid in glowing radroaches. There were other creatures around, I saw a deathclaw fighting two radscorpions and got away from there as fast as I could.

After some time I found myself walking up, climbing over rocks towards a light that I wasn't sure was the sun. By then I could've been in the Glowing Sea for hours or days. My suit's clock said ten hours but it also said it was yesterday and the light had hardly changed. I hadn't emptied the built in water bottle and I was feeling too generally awful to know if I was sleepy.

I reached the top of what was practically a mountain and looked down into the crater.

There was a pool of glowing orange water at the bottom and a metal structure built out over it. The air wasn't just murky here; little green blobs of light gathered on surfaces and floated up into the air. I stumbled down towards the heart of the crater. Not sure _why_. Maybe I was thinking of finding people or sheltering in the shack. Or some subconscious impulse was driving me down to the spot where the bomb fell. I don't know.

And there was someone inside the structure, a man kneeling on the floor. He wasn't wearing any kind of protective suit and I was right up to him before I could be sure he wasn't some kind of hallucination.

He looked up, not at all bothered by my heavy suit, which was actually making the floor creak. "The divide is coming."

"What?"

"The word of Atom's glory must be spread to all."

He kept smiling vaguely and repeating things like that no matter what I said so I went to see if I could find anyone else.

No, the guy didn't look _good_. He was toothless and mostly bald. But alive, which I wouldn't have been without my suit.

When I left the metal building everything was suddenly really bright so it might have been morning. I could see the glowing pool had toxic waste barrels in it—these people had hauled in more radioactive material! And there were a few more shacks around the inside of the crater and I saw people kneeling on platforms and holding out there hands towards the pool.

I walked towards them. A ragged woman with sparse gray hair stood up to meet me. "Stop right there stranger, you enter Atom's holy place! State your business or be divided in his sight!"

"I'm here because I need your help."

"Do you seek division? Have you come to merge with Atom, to be split in his infinite glory, or do you seek to tear down his followers?"

"...neither. What _is_ this place?"

"This is where we commune with Atom himself. I am surprised you have survived to reach it. I am Mother Isolde, one of Atom's chosen worshipers. How can Atom help you, child?"

"I'm looking for someone named Virgil, Mother."

The woman frowned, but her voice was still gentle. "We know of this Virgil. What do you want with him?"

"I don't mean him any harm; I need his help. He might be able to help me reach the Institute."

"Ah. I have heard of this Institute. They hide themselves, trying to avoid the power of Atom. A futile effort. In truth, Virgil has caused some concern among us. Some felt his presence is an affront to Atom, as he is not a follower. He has come to trade with us on a few occasions but we have had little contact with him. It is clear he wants to be left alone. You can find him southwest of the crater, living in a cave. I'd approach him cautiously if I were you."

"Thank you. You… how do you live here in all this radiation?"

The woman's gray hair stirred in a breeze I couldn't feel and little blobs of green light floated around her. "This is Atom's unique gift to us, his true believers. He has brought us here to this place that cannot harm us so that we may worship him, so that we may spread his word to others. That is our calling, to deliver his message to a world that does not wish to hear it. To show Atom's power to all."

For a moment I felt the urge to take off my helmet and breathe in the fresh air. I shook myself, thanked Mother Isolde again, and turned away. I wanted to rest, but there was no place here to get out of my suit. There was nothing to do but keep walking, southwest.


	34. Virgil

Begin Recording

Virgil

Recording by Scribe Ellison

When I climbed to the top of the crater it was dark again, or at least it was hard to see again. I almost had to feel my way down the outside of the crater but my clock said it was only afternoon.

It took another too-long stretch of time but I did find the cave eventually. I heard a deathclaw growling somewhere close but I got inside before it found me.

The cave was just big enough for me to squeeze through in my bulky power armor and there was no way to avoid the hanging can chimes. In a wider area two turrets chugged on shelves build across the rocks, but they didn't open up on me so I clanked on past to look into the wider cave.

Virgil knew I was there. He was waiting looming behind his protectron. Very looming—Virgil was halfway to being a super mutant at the time. Seven feet tall, greenish, glasses tied around his bulging head. He had a crowbar strapped across his chest and it looked small as a toy.

"Hold it! Take it real slow, synth. Where's Kellogg? Sneaking up behind me?"

I spread my hands, keeping them far away from my weapons for whatever that was worth in power armor. "Kellogg isn't coming for you. He's dead."

The mutant roared, "Don't lie to me! ...Hmm. No. Get out of your armor and tell me that face to face. This place isn't so irradiated, even if you are human you'll be safe for a while."

"All right. Give me a minute." I powered down the suit and unlocked it, and my pip-boy immediately told me that the cave wasn't too hot but the outside of my power armor certainly was. I was wearing one of your Brotherhood suits underneath, skintight orange with a hood, not even my normal clothes so I felt super naked face to face with a super mutant. But I turned back to the mutant and said, "Kellogg is dead. I killed him. Are… you Virgil?"

He made a thoughtful rumbling noise. "You know I am… or maybe you don't. Maybe you are telling the truth. Then what do you want from me?"

"I need your help, Doctor Virgil. I need to find a way into the Institute."

"I'm sorry, what?" Virgil snapped and I tensed up again but he just went on, "You want to get into the Institute? Are you insane? Never mind how nearly impossible that is, even if you were to succeed it'd almost certainly end in your immediate death. What reason could you possibly have?"

"I… my son is in the Institute. He was kidnapped."

"I see. And you got this far. Huh." Virgil seemed to finally let down his guard, he turned and gestured to a table and chair, one chair that he had to clear off for me because he was too big to fit in it. He sat down on a crate and offered me a can of purified water. "I can help you get into the Institute, but I want something in return."

I nodded. "Sure. What can I do?"

"Before I had to escape I was working on a serum that would serve as a cure for my… condition. I had to leave it behind. it's still in my lab and… well, look at me. I need it!"

"You weren't always..?"

"No I wasn't always a super mutant! I did this to myself, to come here! The only place the Institute couldn't get to me. The only place I could escape to. But without the serum I will continue to mutate until my mind is gone as well. I need you to find it for me if you do manage to get inside the Institute. What do you say?"

"If I can get the serum to you, I will."

"All right. let's talk details."

And Virgil told me a lot about how the teleporter worked, as much as he understood it. It was the only way into the Institute so the only way I could get in was to kill something with a teleporter chip in it. Not any old synth; they sent those up in batches on a one-way trip and then something with the right chip had to bring them back. The only thing with the right chip installed that ever leaves the Institute is the coursers, the elite hunter synths. Because the Institute assumes nobody's going to be able to kill one, I guess. Virgil didn't have a lot of confidence that I'd be able to kill one, but my only chance was to do just that and pull the chip out of its head. I asked Virgil if I could just bring back the whole head, because I wasn't sure I could make myself dig around in what would probably look like a human brain and even if I did I wasn't sure I'd recognize a chip if I saw one. This did not raise Virgil's opinion of me but he said that would be all right.

Virgil would not tell me anything more about the Institute. I asked, asked why the Institute sent synths to replace people, what it did with the kidnap victims—I asked what they might want with a little boy. I think Virgil really didn't know anything about Shaun, and he had trouble explaining the rest. He said, "They replace people to keep control, of course! The Institute rules the Commonwealth, or they like to think they do. Some of the people who disappear end up being experimented on, but I don't know why they would keep a test subject for so many years. The Institute… The Institute isn't what you think."

"What do you mean? Then what is it?"

Virgil shook his huge head. "You'll find out, when you get there. Except the courser will kill you if the walk across the Glowing Sea doesn't." And he wouldn't say more.

The realization that I'd have to walk through the Glowing Sea again once I had the courser's head and once more if I did get into the Institute and found Virgil's serum was not a happy moment. And while Virgil's cave wasn't half as radioactive as the outside, it wasn't safe for me to stay out of my armor long enough to sleep. So after I repeated back how to find a courser I armored up and slogged back outside. Virgil and his protectron walked me out and it was a good thing, because the deathclaw was sniffing around. The monster tried to open Virgil's protectron like a tin can, distracting it long enough for Virgil and I to dispatch it with our weapons.

And I set my pip-boy to direct me back to Sommerville Place and walked for… some amount of time. I remember the air being more brown than green on the way back, and I saw a church steeple sticking up out of the ground. At last I clanked my way back into the settlement and parked my armor in a shed. They said I'd been gone twenty hours, and once I was breathing real air again I was suddenly parched, starving, and falling asleep on my feet. I got on the radio to tell Preston I'd survived, and went to bed.


	35. First Contact

**I wonder if this is what Bethesda was thinking of when they made the female Sole Survivor a lawyer.**

Begin Recording

First Contact

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The Abernathys' cat Maisie had a litter of kittens and the bidding for them was fierce. Molerats are more dramatic but ordinary rats are even more dangerous. Just a few of them can foul your entire grain store and then you have to choose between throwing it out and risking starvation or eating it and risking disease. Your best defense is a cat! Luckily two cats will turn into twenty cats without any prompting. Not sure where Maisie found her tomcat. Must be feral cats around the Commonwealth that we just don't see.

Vadim had won a bid and Piper was up from Diamond City to deliver his caps and collect his cat. So we were hiking over from Sanctuary comparing school experiences with Piper being loudly incredulous about how many years I'd spent in school. We were being louder than we really should have been but there hadn't been raiders this far north in a month and Dogmeat's nose would pick up trouble before we saw it.

And it did. Dogmeat raced back to us, low to the ground and growling. Piper and I instantly went silent and crouched down, pistols out. We weren't exactly invisible, in fact we were in the middle of a flat patch of ground without even many trees for cover.

The wind changed and I heard the unmistakable wobbly growl of, "...human?"

Super mutants. Piper cursed. We were two plus a dog, armed for molerats but not for a real fight. Suddenly she smiled. "Hey Blue, how close are we..?"

I knew exactly how close we were. "That way, we let them see us over _there_ and then run like hell for the farm. Run them right into the turrets."

"You read my mind."

It was a good plan, but it depended on the super mutants not seeing us until the right moment so we had to hustle before they got up out of the streambed. We had to run silently and running silently is hard.

So I was looking down at my feet when the buzz of rotors came up from the south. The Brotherhood vertibird sailed over us, turned in a long curve and hovered and I saw two figures in power armor jump down. Just like soldiers showing off in the veterans day parade, two hundred years ago.

Gunfire began.

We ran to help as two more Brotherhood members dropped down on ropes and joined the fight. Good thing too; there were ten super mutants, all with guns. But two suits of power armor will do a lot to even the odds.

Once the greenskins were all done for and everyone was doing the automatic post-shootout gun checking and reloading thing, I came forward. "Thanks! This would've been a nightmare if you hadn't been here."

One of the suits said, "Move along, wastelander." Not very polite when we just helped them with a fight.

One of the unarmored soldiers, a young woman with pale eager eyes said, "Do you know about the local settlements?"

I didn't say, 'Don't you know who I am?' but it was a close call. Thing is, by then most people north of Diamond City _did_ know who I am. Even ones who hadn't met me knew 'black hair, vault suit, dog, she's the boss of the new Minutemen.' So I said, "The Abernathy family farm is just over the hill, that's where we were headed. Over east is the settlement of Sanctuary. You all looking to trade?"

One of the suits made a short sound, maybe he'd snorted. The young initiate said, "We'll be requisitioning food supplies from the local settlements. We came to inform them."

My eyebrows went up and next to me Piper twitched. I decided to assume the best. "We can pay for protection—sounds great; we don't have flight capability. I'm a bit of a local leader and I'd love to get together and draw up an agreement."

"An… agreement?"

"I used to be a lawyer. Em Mason, and this is Piper Wright."

"I'm Ka—Initiate. Initiate Armstrong. But I don't think you understand. The Brotherhood of Steel is going to be defending the Commonwealth and the settlements will be expected to provide food and resources. It's, uh, not up for debate."

Piper said, "So you're a protection racket."

"No! The Brotherhood..."

"Initiate, can the chatter." Said one of the suits. "Take us to the nearest settlement."

So we all hiked over. Piper tried talking to the two young initiates. "Hey! I just wrote an article about what you all did getting fresh water to the whole Capital Wasteland, I'd love to do a follow-up. What's the Lone Wanderer up to these days? And does he mind being called that?"

Armstrong couldn't resist. "He doesn't mind, I don't think. Everyone calls him that. We didn't see him much at the airport, I think the elders asked him to come along on the Prydwen but he wouldn't. He has a child, you know, so he probably didn't want to leave her."

The other initiate resolutely kept his mouth closed while Armstrong chattered, and the two suits just walked along. Those helmets are great for terrifying raiders but they make conversation hard. I didn't even know if the two of them were male or female under there.

We got to the farm and Lucy was on watch. Wasteland kid: cute as a button and heavily armed. "General! Who's that with you?"

"Hey Lucy. This is my friend Piper and we met these folks along the way. Go get your dad, would you?"

Lucy had gone silent and wide-eyed when she got a good look at the power armor. She sounded a lot more hesitant but she finished her welcome, "Welcome to our farm, protected by the Minutemen so come to trade but don't make any trouble." And she scampered off.

One of the suits said, "Minutemen?"

Armstrong said, "General?"

I gave them a sheepish look. "Me. I'm the General of the Minutemen. Ah, Blake, hi."

There was Blake, shovel over his shoulder and smelling like he'd been mucking out after the brahmin. "Heya General. That is some _fine_ power armor your friends have."

"Blake, these Brotherhood soldiers helped take down a batch of super mutants that somehow got up this far. Can you spare a few pounds of mutfruit for them?"

"Sure, I'll fill up a few sacks." Blake said. We were acquiring an audience, everyone wanted to gawk at the power armor and meet Piper.

Armstrong tried, "The Brotherhood will be collecting a portion of your crops each month to support our efforts in protecting the peaceful citizens of the Commonwealth."

Blake looked at me.

This was the moment and I went for it. "Yes—I'll speak with your leader to draw up a contract stating where and how often we can expect patrols and how often and how much food will be provided, as well as provisions for bad harvests or if your vertibirds are busy elsewhere. That will protect both sides from misunderstandings, and make sure the Brotherhood gets all the food it's due."

There was an instant of silence. Young Armstrong gaped. Piper looked just delighted. The suits didn't look anything, because helmets, but one of them said, "You'll have to talk to Elder Maxson at the Boston airport."

I said, "Thank you." and Connie came over with bags of produce and sincere thanks for saving them from the super mutants. The initiates got stuck carrying the bags and we all heard the vertibird returning. We all rushed out to see it land on a bit of lat ground north of the farm.

They didn't attack us. I'd been worried, talking like a lawyer in the wasteland could have gone really wrong. But it had worked, at least for now.

Once the vertibird was safely aloft with our visitors Piper turned to me, "Damn, Blue! Is that what you did before the war?"

"Pretty much. Well, the actual writing of the contracts is what I did. Blake! We need to sit down with Preston and as many other settlement leaders as we can get up to Sanctuary quick and work out what we can spare and when. If I can give this Elder Maxson an offer on paper he may take it instead of just trying to take… everything. And we'll need to plan what to do if they don't go for it." I looked around at the farm, protected by walls and guard posts and turrets, as safe as the current knowledge and resources of the Minutemen could make it. Not safe at all from an air attack. "Piper, come back and talk this out with us, you can let Diamond City know what's up. I wonder if they'll try this there too."

"On a long established settlement? Bet they won't. But let's go have a council—after I pick up Vadim's cat."

...and that, Scribe, is the first of many reasons Elder Maxson doesn't like me very much.


	36. The Hunter

Begin Recording

The Hunter

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"So, Nick, I need to take out the Institute's greatest killing machine. Virgil was sure I wouldn't survive. Want to come?"

"Love to. Ellie, hold my calls."

I caught Ellie's expression and said, "Don't worry, I'll bring him back in one piece."

"You'd better." Ellie said, smiling but troubled. "Have fun out there."

My feminine intuition and high school memories delivered a message. Ellie _so_ had a thing for Nick, and he didn't have a clue. As a fellow girl and someone who wished happiness for my friends I was obliged to help if I could think of a way. But this wasn't high school, it was a dangerous wasteland. A really bad place for love.

I wasn't just thinking about Nick and Ellie.

But that thought was accompanied by a rush of guilt. Finding my son was more important than any of this, and that meant finding this courser was more important.

I had worked out that the synth in Kellogg's memories, the one that took Shaun away, must have been a courser so we knew what we were looking for. And that synth had been weirdly robotic. Human looking but the way it spoke revealed the synth inside. So I didn't think I'd have any hesitation about killing one, I'd just have all the other problems with trying to kill this warrior synth.

At least the two of us knew what we were looking for when we got to the ruins of CIT one fine morning. And it was fine, a day with a perfectly blue sky like the war had never happened. The buildings were well preserved too, the rotunda stood almost white. And large. "Hope we don't have to search inside, this place is huge."

"And full of super mutants, so I hear." Nick said.

It was, and the Minutemen took care of them later, but thankfully we didn't have to go inside that day. The courser's signal on my radio led us east along the river—and right into a raider nest. So we had to use up half our ammo before we even found the right place.

After that little side trip we tracked the signal to a tall green building, its metal facade marked with rust.

Inside we found a very nice lobby, or it would have been before the war. Now the ornamental plants were long dead and a corpse was sprawled over the check-in desk.

Nick said, "Gunner. Wonder what he was doing here."

My pip-boy radio indicated the courser was here, somewhere above us. The nice convenient stairs up from the lobby had fallen down so we were going to have to find another way up. I did find the name of the place—Greenetech Genetics. Whatever that was. Not a company that had ever crossed my desk at the law office.

So we crept up the back stairs, and found another dead Gunner. I jumped a foot when the building's intercom crackled. "The courser's on the second floor. Kill on sight. Send reinforcements to the lobby in case there are more!"

Nick and I looked at each other. I guessed, "Gunners are going after the courser."

"Wonder who hired them. Maybe we'll find out."

The Gunners were not interested in telling us. They'd wired up a bunch of turrets, and there were a lot of Gunners. We spent a lot of time huddled behind walls while bullets whizzed past us. There was an awful moment when Nick went down and I had to drag him out of danger. "Nick!"

"I'll be fine. Just give me a minute to put my leg back on!" And he put his leg back on and we carried on.

The Gunner on the intercom spoke again, reporting on the courser's location and the intruders in the lobby. They'd noticed us.

"Great." Nick rasped. "If we're lucky they'll be too busy with the courser, wear it down for us."

We saw the first sign of the courser through a window across the open center of the building. Up on the next floor someone was using a serious weapon, something that thundered and made the air ripple. Gunners didn't have whatever the hell that was.

Virgil had been quite sure the courser would kill me. But when we got to the bridges—we had to cross bridges through the building's atrium—all we saw were more Gunners shooting at us from above. Nick spotted the one with the missile launcher first and took him out with a head shot. Man and missiles slid from the bridge and all the way down. I gave Nick an appreciative, "Damn."

"You doing all right?" He asked after we'd gotten safely across.

"Yeah. Good to go." I was out of ammo for my ten millimeter, but the Gunners had been dropping plenty of energy cells and I'd found a good laser pistol plus I still had my rifle. And half a dozen stimpacks left.

We both looked up as another Gunner report came from the ceiling. "The courser's after the girl. Anyone alive needs to get up to the top floor immediately. That's an order!"

Girl? Me? But at least we knew where to go.

It took forever, Scribe. More halls, more stairs, more Gunners jumping out at us. Finally an elevator took us further up to a floor full of banks of electronics and everything tucked behind locked gates. Whatever Greenetech was doing with genetics, they didn't want anyone else to get at it. But by then we could hear sounds from even further up. Gunners begging for their lives.

The courser, it had to be the courser, spoke in an unnaturally calm voice. "All he had to do was tell me the password. Now, are you going to cooperate?"

Weeping Gunners saying they didn't know. The courser repeating calmly that he would kill them until someone told him the password. This thing had reduced a bunch of hardened mercenaries to wailing wrecks and didn't even sound out of breath.

Nick and I looked at each other, reloaded, I swung my rifle down in case I got a chance for a distance shot, and we climbed the last flight of stairs.

The courser did look human… only it didn't. Flat face, flat eyes. The same clothing as the one in Kellogg's memory. It was pacing back and forth before a terminal and some Gunners, most dead, a few curled up and bleeding. I was aiming when it spoke. "Are you here for the synth?"

That thing should not have been able to hear us. We were far away and mostly hidden behind a wall. But it continued, "If you're not here for the synth then you're here for me. What do you want?"

There was no reason to talk. I shot it.

The thing immediately activated a stealth boy and disappeared, but I'd learned the tricks. How to see the shimmer in the air—or just fire in a line and watch what the laser blasts do. And Nick's yellow synth eyes could see through the stealth field a lot better than mine, he thinks he can see an extra wavelength or two. So we shot the thing, a lot. By sheer luck I blasted its stealth boy and it reappeared, and that gave the two surviving Gunners enough hope that they started shooting too. The courser actually ignored Nick and me long enough to kick one of them to death, and Nick got in a shot that shattered the thing's hand.

My borrowed laser pistol was down to one last handful of energy cells when the courser finally stayed down. Neither of us was sure it was really dead. It had taken a huge amount of punishment. Nick got a combat knife off a dead Gunner and cut off its head while I panted and tried to keep standing up while fading adrenaline made my knees shake. My hands hurt when I uncurled them from the laser pistol.

The last surviving Gunner slowly uncurled. He tried to aim his laser pistol at me but it shook too much. I said, "We're not going to hurt you unless you attack us. Just get out of here." And he fled.

There was someone else on the top floor. Behind a window a young woman said, "He… deserved to die. I know you're not here for me, but please help me get out of here."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'll tell you. I won't run. Can you open the door?"

Nick stood up from the courser's body, holding something electronic and bloody in his metal hand. "I think this is it. Em, see if those Gunners have the password somewhere while I try getting through this terminal."

I didn't want to poke around inside the courser's head but I did search the dead Gunners and lay them out. I didn't find the password on any of them but by then Nick had hacked the terminal and opened the door.

"Thank you." The woman said. She looked ragged and afraid and spoke in short choppy phrases.

I asked, "Why were they all coming after you? Who are you?"

"My… Institute designation is K1-98. But I prefer Jenny. So yes, I'm a synth. If you haven't already guessed. I knew they'd send a courser after me but I didn't think he'd find me so fast. I think I could've lost him but then I was captured by these mercenaries and… all this happened. Thanks for your help."

"You know where to go?"

"Yeah. I'll grab some gear off these Gunners on my way out. And before you ask, no, I don't need any more help. The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to make it on my own or I'm dead."

Nick nodded to her and I said, "There are some settlements up north. You'd be welcome, if you don't find a better place to stay."

Jenny blinked, I think I surprised her. "Thank you. Maybe we'll meet again under better circumstances." And she headed out, fast.

Nick and I did not move fast. Nick probably could've, but I was feeling like I always did after a long fight: totally drained, nauseous, shaky. The silence was wonderful and with no sign of more Gunners we could make our way back down in peace. I remember thinking a lot about synths on the way down. Nick, who didn't look human but felt human. Jenny, who I'd never have guessed was a synth. The courser, which looked perfectly normal but made my skin creep. Like the Institute had tried to make a human then gone on past, somehow.


	37. Hermit

Begin Recording

Hermit

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I went directly down to Somerville Place to start my walk back across the Glowing Sea. It didn't feel safe to keep the courser chip in a populated place like Diamond City. I'd heard too many stories from Piper about settlements destroyed by dozens of synths appearing out of nowhere. If the Institute had some way of knowing the courser had been taken and ability to track its chip I didn't want anyone else around when the next courser came for me. So I sent Nick home to Diamond City and took the long walk south by myself.

The courser chip wasn't really a chip, it's a bulb about as big as my thumb, packed electronics covered in glass to keep it from the biological parts of the courser's brain. I wrapped it up and carried it in one of the pouches on my gun harness that I didn't even take off to sleep. The thing had all the weight of being something no one outside the Institute had ever held. No one had ever killed a courser, most people didn't even know they existed though Piper had looked back over her records and found a few reports of people in long coats who appeared in the night, committed a murder, and left again. Probably coursers, and I was getting closer to the people who sent them.

Closer to Shaun, I hoped.

In the days before we went after the courser I'd updated Shaun's room, exchanged the crib for a cot and the blocks and rattle for the medical magazines that Kellogg remembered Shaun reading. Doc Jenna had put the word out with the caravans that she would pay for any medical texts and after she'd got enough copies to donate to every other doctor in the Commonwealth she'd give me the next one for Shaun.

He'd have a place to come home to, once I found him. My worst fear was that he'd already have a loving family, something I tried not to think about as I slogged through the green twilight with my eyes burning from the stealth field on my suit. I think I took a different route across the glowing Sea again, because I saw the steeple but also the wing of a crashed airplane half sunken in muck.

At last the entrance to Virgil's cave loomed in front of me. I called out, "Doctor Virgil? It's me."

He'd upgraded, somehow cramming a decontamination arch in the entry tunnel. I got out of my power armor and stood under it. This time I'd worn my own clothes, and discovered that I was choosing dignity over comfort. My vault suit was soaked with sweat and I swore it'd be the Brotherhood approved orange jumpsuit and hood again next time. I should've trusted the bunch who practically live in power armor to design the most comfortable suit to wear under it.

Virgil was waiting on the other side. "You came back! You don't mean you found a courser?"

"I did. We killed it. Here, this is what was in its head."

Virgil took the chip between swollen fingers and squinted at it. "This is it..." he took it over to his terminal and plugged it in somehow and sank into a reverie of looking at the screen. I slouched into the human-sized chair and enjoyed not being in my power armor.

After some time Virgil asked, "Did you do anything with this after you pulled it out of the courser?"

"No, I brought it straight here. I was afraid it might have a tracker in it."

"It should have, but the tracker's been deactivated. Which must have been done at the Institute."

That made me sit up straight. "What? You mean the Institute tracks every courser except the one I happened to catch?"

Virgil looked over at me, brows furrowed. "Yes."

I suddenly felt very alone in a cave with a super mutant. There was nothing I could say if Virgil got suspicious. I had no idea what the Institute was up to.

But after a long minute Virgil grumbled, "The Institute is conniving but I can't imagine they'd make a plan that includes proving coursers can be killed." He went back to tapping away at the terminal.

What we'd just started to suspect was that I was being set up. I was, and finding that out would just about break me. But at the time we just wondered if something might be off.

I waited while Virgil worked, but he didn't seem to be doing so well. The keyboard tapping turned to banging and he started rubbing his head a lot.

"Doctor Virgil? You doing all right?"

The super mutant suddenly howled, "I can't reeeeemember!"

I jumped and drew my pistol on pure reflex, but after a minute of harsh breathing Virgil said, "I'm sorry. I thought I could decrypt the information on the chip, but I... can't. I can't remember how! I've _done_ this… it's the FEV. I tried to make a strain that would preserve my faculties but it wasn't perfect."

"How did you escape from the Institute?" I asked. Get the client to talk about something they're proud of, it builds rapport. Also, I was curious.

Virgil stared at the screen for a few seconds then pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I used the molecular relay to send supplies to this cave for a while. I have enough food and water to live here for years! This was the only place they couldn't come for me. Somewhere nothing could survive! Kellogg is vicious but he's not immune to radiation. Even coursers are enough flesh and blood to get radiation poisoning! Of course I wouldn't survive either, as a human. So I did this to myself."

"That is impressive!"

Virgil smiled. "Or stupid. I am… was… a researched on the effects of FEV. I had hoped to find a way to give subjects the benefits of the virus without the drawbacks, like becoming big and green. But since I designed new strains of the virus all day I could design one to be reversible. Once I get the serum I'll change back into an ordinary human. Can't come soon enough. Here, take this back. You'll have to find someone else to decrypt it. FEV causes mental degeneration and while I can still say long words I can't get into this chip."

I nodded and took back the courser chip, wrapping it up safely and putting it away. "I'll ask Doctor Amari; maybe she can get into it. What will you do after you get the serum? You'll be trapped here."

"Yes. I will. The only way I can stay alive is to stay here. The Institute will find me and kill me anywhere else. I have a radiation suit so I can go outside, once I'm human and fit in it."

"That's… wow. You can't even get radio signals through this muck."

Virgil nodded, seeming not troubled by this. "In fifty years, I will leave behind a record of research."

I was already getting into my power armor because it took a few minutes, so I wasn't facing Virgil so he didn't see my face. The life he was planning sounded horrible to me but maybe years of solitude and nothing but science was what he wanted. I promised myself that if I got a chance I'd get another serious radiation suit made so Virgil could rejoin the rest of the world someday if he wanted. He should at least have a choice.

The walk back felt long. My pip-boy reported that I was on the same path as before but this time I passed a decayed highway overpass. I saw a deathclaw nest underneath but the eggs were covered in a layer of dust.

Once I got back to the real world I did talk to Doctor Amari, but she wasn't able to get into the courser chip. She pointed me to the Railroad, so I suppose I should go back and tell you how I met them. And maybe about the next time I met your Brotherhood too, since I liked the second patrol I ran into a lot more than I liked the first.


	38. Recon Squad Gladius

Begin Recording

Recon Squad Gladius

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I met my second Brotherhood patrol by accident. I was looking for the water treatment plant because we needed to repair it so we could flush our toilets up in Sanctuary and I somehow turned east instead of west. Everything looked so different and I was trying to remember roads that I'd driven on with street signs to tell me where I was.

So I was going down the road, realizing I was in the wrong place, when I heard lots and lots of shooting. It was just me and Dogmeat so maybe we should've just left but I wanted to see who was being attacked.

Short answer, a suit of power armor standing like a statue in front of a barricaded building was taking out a bunch of ferals. An infinite _tide_ of ferals, more than I'd ever seen. So I got up on the barricade and threw my gun in on the side of team human.

When we finally ran out of ghouls I climbed down to see who I'd helped rescue. The suit of power armor took off his helmet revealing a man about my age, with wasteland stubble and tired eyes. He said, "Thanks for the assistance, civilian. But what's your business here?"

"Out scouting when I heard the firefight. Are your people all right?" I'd seen there were actually two other people huddled back against the building, a woman with a backpack helping a man up. They must've been staying sensibly behind the guy in the big armor.

The leader glanced behind him and the woman called, "He'll live. Recruit the girl, willya, we need the hands."

The man asked, "Where are you from and what were you scouting for?"

"Sanctuary, up north, and I was looking for the water treatment plant but I'm way off course. If this is Cambridge I went in exactly the wrong direction. Em Mason, and this is Dogmeat." Dogmeat yawned hello and wagged his tail. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't look like a raider dog that convinced them to trust me.

The man in armor sighed. "If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."

I shrugged, "Sure. I won't make it home before it gets dark, so spot me a bed and my gun is yours."

"Good. I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylin and Knight Rhys. We're on recon duty, but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low. I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them."

"Your superiors—the airship?" I asked.

"Yes." He said. I'd been hoping for a little more detail.

Scribe Haylin returned from helping the injured Rhys inside. "Sir, if I may? I've modified the antenna on the roof of the police station but it just isn't enough. We need something that'll boost the system."

"Our target is ArcJet systems, it contains the technology we need, a deep range transmitter. We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here. What do you say? Willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?"

I was, but I wanted to know about a whole lot of things. I started with, "What's the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. Its power. Its meaning to us as humans. And we fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it." Suddenly his voice had emotion in it. Dedication, belief.

I asked, "What do you mean by abuse of technology?"

"Before the great war, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bio-engineered plagues and FEV are clear examples of the horrors that technological advancement had wrought. We're here to make sure that never happens again."

And I agreed. But I lived before the great war and knew technology had also wrought the safety features in my car, the vaccine that kept me at the office through flu season, Cogsworth who cleaned the house when I was at work or down with morning sickness. Hell, the baby bottles we bought were designed from the shape to the nipples made from special antibacterial rubber to keep babies from getting sick. So much of what we were doing in Sanctuary was trying to get back the benefits we lost when we lost all that technology.

I wanted to talk about the Brotherhood's philosophy a whole lot more. But this was not the time to drop the 'two hundred years old' bombshell so I just said, "Sounds like a noble cause. Those things were horrible."

"I'm pleased that you agree. There are very few outside the Brotherhood who appreciate the gravity of the situation we're facing as a species. So, what do you say? Will you help us?"

"Let's go find that transmitter!"

"Outstanding." Danse said, and smiled. Damned if he wasn't good looking when he smiled. "Head inside and resupply yourself, then we'll begin."

Inside Haylin was getting Knight Rhys bandaged up. She pointed me at a stack of ammo boxes and said, "Take what you need, we're sunk without that transmitter anyway. And you, quit squirming."

"You're all heart, Doc." Rhys grumbled.

"I dunno, your prognosis looks pretty grim. Might be more humane to just take you out back and shoot you." Her voice was gentle and she offered Rhys a med-x before she cleaned the bite marks down his side.

I refilled by ammo pouch and checked my pistol while she worked. The patrol had set up camp in the police station like the five of us when we first reached Sanctuary, everything mostly in one room. Sleeping bags, an oil-stained and tool-scattered surface where people had been repairing guns and a larger stain on the floor where Danse must have parked his power armor.

Haylin came over, drying her hands after finishing up. "Sorry about the other guys. Look, it may not seem like it but Danse is a good man. He's just all soldier. Protocol is his bread and butter. And Rhys… well, let's just say he's as hard-headed as a Mister Gutsy. But I'd trust both of them with my life, because they're good people and that's hard to come by nowadays."

"Understood." I smiled. I liked Haylin. "Why are you cutting me so much slack?"

"Ah… until recently I was like you, wandering alone. Without even a dog." She bent down to offer Dogmeat her hand. "So I know what it feels like when everyone you run into sticks a gun in your face."

Haylin is a lovely person and I'd like to steal her for the Minutemen. She knows medical, she knows tech, and she has a sense of humor. Rhys though…

"Think you're some kinda hotshot?" He growled, circling me and checking out my scavenged armor and vault suit.

There is no good answer for that. "Sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

"Just letting you know where you stand. You're hired help and that's all there is to it."

"Understood." I gave him a goodbye nod to escape that conversation and turned back to Haylin, "I've got enough ammo but if we have time later I'd love to compare gear. How'd you manage that double backpack?"

Haylin grinned. "Once we're not stranded here we can talk fashion."

"Can I leave Dogmeat with you? He'll just lie down outside, but if more ferals come you'll know about it. I don't like to bring him into too many fights in one day."

Dogmeat had indeed sacked out near the door, panting. Haylin said, "Thanks. We could use the extra warning. I'll get him some water and liberate a can of something. Come back quick ok?"

So Danse and I headed out. "Try not to fall behind." He said and I reminded myself we'd just met and he might get friendlier later. It was getting dark and I was glad we were heading down an alley out of Cambridge instead of deeper into the city and into the teeth of more ferals. While we hiked Danse told me about their mission, to investigate the situation in the Commonwealth and report back. They'd set up in the police station and were scouting for months and getting picked off one by one and then a super mutant attack broke their transmitter and reporting back had become impossible. They couldn't even call the airship to get backup. The previous recon squad had vanished without a trace and the one before that had brought back piles of technology and documents.

And, "Scribe Haylin detected some disturbing energy readings in the area that need to be investigated. We don't know much about them except that they're short-lived and broadcast on a frequency only obtainable with a high level of technology. we're concerned that whatever is creating these readings might be a threat, so it's our job to investigate."

Yeah, your guys had detected the courser teleport signal. The Institute had gotten a measure of the Brotherhood from the first squad and disappeared the second. In hindsight it's pretty clear. The Institute was watching Danse's squad too, and had eyes on the Prydwen for a while. They don't now, but Maxson's anti-synth measures didn't work as well as Goodneighbor's.

We had to shoot some mongrels along the way, then a radstorm blew up in the south and we had to run to get inside. We got to ArcJet systems just as my Geiger counter started clicking. "We do this clean and quiet—no heroics, civilian. We're just here for the deep range transmitter. Stay focused and check your fire, I don't want to be hit by stray bullets."

"Yes sir." I said without sarcasm. Soldiers.

Inside was the crumbling lobby of the building. I remembered the name ArcJet Systems, they'd been in the paper. Rockets to Mars, they were building a rocket to take people to Mars. Then other rockets had launched instead. So this was a high tech facility, the lobby was the only room meant for the public. There would be offices, probably on the ground floor because people in offices like to look out the window. The labs were probably downstairs where they'd be more secure.

Danse looked around at the grimy, collapsing room. "It was corporations like this that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind."

"Yeah?"

"They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done."

The words, "Well the Chinese did invade Anchorage too." came out before I could stop them. Again it wasn't that Danse was wrong. Corporations, especially arms dealers, had a lot to do with the war but there had been so much else too. Nate knew people who made oblique references to lots of situations with lots of countries. I don't know who dropped the first bomb, much less why. We'll probably never know, unless you all in the Capital Wasteland find the president's secret records or something.

Danse didn't comment but he looked in my direction before turning to head down a hallway. It led to what must have been a security room. A half dozen protectron charging pods and a few protectrons all over the floor in pieces. "Look at these wrecks. It appears as though the facility's automated security's already been dealt with. Damnit. I was hoping to avoid this."

"Isn't it a good thing? Less security?"

A sigh. 'Look at the evidence. There isn't a single spent ammunition casting or drop of blood in sight. These robots were destroyed by Institute synths."

I scanned the floor. Laser burns on the carpet disproved any hope that the protectrons had destroyed each other. Danse gestured at the fallen robots and we both bent to loot ammunition from their shells. "Damn. Synths, not my favorite."

"They're exactly what we mean by abuses of technology. Abominations meant to 'improve' upon humanity. It's unacceptable. They simply can't be allowed to exist."

I opened my mouth to say something about at least one synth being a pretty good guy, then remembered that saying things guaranteed to annoy your companion is a thing best saved for when you're not on a vital mission. Instead I asked, "Do you know anything about the Institute? People out here talk about them like they're boogeymen."

"They're a group of scientists who went underground when the great war started. Spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares." He sounded so disgusted and I was… a little confused honestly, wondering what kind of terrible experience he'd had with a synth to make him feel that way. Turned out, none, but he'd heard all the horror stories while my first experience with an actual synth had been meeting Valentine.

We traded back and forth the bullets we'd scrounged, and Danse didn't argue when I stuffed a few undamaged circuit boards into my pack. He did say they'd be back for a 'sweep and retrieve' of anything advanced enough for the Brotherhood to be interested in.

We searched through more mostly ruined labs and then quite suddenly opened a door on a synth raiding party. Gen-twos, the same metal faced things that Kellogg had with him as backup. Danse waded into them, and I kept my much less armored self out of the way, picking off any synth that looked like getting behind him. It turned out the building was full of synths, there must've been fifty split into groups that were busily stripping the labs.

That's what the Institute does. They don't trade, they take. Prewar tech mostly, but if they want something else like resources or even if someone's grown an interesting variety of mutfruit the Institute's first go-to was to send synths up to grab what they need. They have teleport boxes that send supplies down, some kind of low budget molecular relay that's fine for salvage but fries anything living. The boxes also automatically go when the nearest synth draws its weapon so you'll never see them unless you manage to sneak up. Now that we've had a peace conference the Institute has to at least ask and they send up some really strange requests. All the corn from this field but not that one, prewar telephones that have all their wiring but haven't been irradiated, one bloodleaf from each water source, stuff like that.

Anyway, we found our way down to the engine core, a much more industrial section of the building, rusting metal walls. And no lights. The rusty sunken hallway suddenly opened up into a rocket silo. Not a real one, this was just the Arcjet booster mounted somehow for testing but it was a room several stories high with catwalks around it and the huge booster hanging ominously in the middle. Even after two hundred years a tang of fuel hung in the air.

Even Danse seemed impressed. "Look at this place. Scribes would have a field day in here. The transmitter should be in the control room at the top, but it looks like the elevators are dead."

I looked up, but enough of the catwalks had fallen down that there was no way we could climb up. Down was the only way, but there might be a backup generator or just another flight of stairs. So down we went, right under the business end of the booster. I wasn't sorry when Danse sent me in to scout the rooms around the test chamber; I kept imagining the rocket being destabilized by the vibration of our footsteps and crashing down. It looked solid, but it was two hundred years old and falling down.

The rooms I had to check were falling down too, and I had to crawl under some dangling ceiling. Rusty consoles and disintegrating furniture. Had to climb over a lot of chunks of concrete to get to a room with a working terminal. The password was 'Aries' and the terminal seemed to say the booster was still functioning. It also had the option to turn on backup power so I did that, and rushed back to tell Danse to get out from under the maybe-still-active rocket booster.

Synths had found him first. Dozens of them were dropping off the catwalks from above, he was going down under weight of numbers. I had ammo, but I didn't have _that_ kind of ammo. We were dead.

But there was a big red button on the console, it had been protected from accidental pushing but the shield had cracked away with time. I found the other button, for intercom, "Danse! I think I can fire the booster!"

He hollered back, "Do it!"

Well he should know. I pushed the button. For a moment nothing happened and I thought I'd have to go down shooting, but then the looming mouth of the booster glowed white and flame blasted down.

Danse huddled as close to the wall as he could while the synths were reduced to ash.

As the booster powered down I was already trying to open the door back into the test chamber. It didn't unlock until the temperature was safe and even then it was like stepping into an oven. The steel walls pinged and creaked as they cooled and the floor was covered in a layer of congealing molten metal and ash that was still too hot to step on. Leaning in the door I called, "Are you all right?" and saw one gauntlet wave in reply.

Danse got up and pulled off his helmet and looked at me, sweaty and laughing in the way people sometimes laugh when they survive something. "Cooked my power armor. Don't even want to see the diagnostics, but I'm still on one piece if you can take the lead from now on. And it looks like you got the elevators working."

Ok, I was impressed. Danse gets on my last nerve sometimes but he can get up after being fried and just keep going.

I had indeed gotten the elevator working. We took it up to the control room at the top where we found some more synths. Thankfully most of them had jumped down and gotten cooked, so I took care of the rest. One of the synths was carrying the transmitter and to my great relief the service elevator still worked and delivered us back to where we'd come in. The radstorm had passed so we hauled ourselves back to the police station in peace.

Poor Danse was walking at about half speed with all the joints in his power armor seizing up. "Well that could've gone smoother. The sweep was sloppy. We were caught unprepared more than once, which is unacceptable."

"For one paladin and one civilian against that many synths, how much smoother were you expecting?"

The guy finally cracked a smile. "It was your extra gun and quick thinking that gave us the edge we needed. Without your assistance the mission would have been in jeopardy. It is only right to compensate you for your assistance during the operation. Haylin will have some caps for you, but I'd like you to have this. It's my own personal modification of the standard Brotherhood laser rifle."

And he gave me a very nice laser rifle I still use sometimes. And invited me to join the Brotherhood. I was surprised, I had not thought I was doing anything impressive, but Danse seemed to honestly think I had what it took to 'join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world..'

It sounded good. Weapons. Power armor. The whole Brotherhood.

"I'm not sure I can. There are people counting on me and I don't think I can make any more promises."

But I still went back to the police station and helped Haylin install the transmitter and we made a nuisance of ourselves talking about backpacks and I tried to find out my new friends' first names. Haylin eventually admitted hers but the men wouldn't. I did eventually learn Danse's first name but I've been sworn to secrecy.

After that for some months I'd stop by and see them every time I was going past, we spent a lot of time talking about Brotherhood philosophy and life before the great war. Arguing as much as talking really, so I won't fill your holotapes with hours of that.

Me and Danse? Oh. No. It's the usual story: Girl meets boy, sparks fly, girl realizes boy is serious about killing synths, boy realizes girl is serious about being friends with Nick Valentine, sparks of a different sort fly… things never got too far in _that_ direction but we ended up as some kind of… allies maybe, having a high ranking member of the Brotherhood think I had some good ideas was one of the things that made the peace talks possible. Friends if that word applies when we fight half the time.


	39. Railroad

**As I write this it becomes clear that this story would be really different if the Sole Survivor had met the synth-hating Brotherhood first instead of meeting the very likable synth Valentine first. A+ game plot there, Bethesda. I try not to read everyone else's Fallout 4 novelizations because accidental plagiarism is a thing but I hope there are novelizations that explore all the different stories.**

**On the other side, since we are again talking synths in this chapter I am again throwing out vast swaths of canon to make the Railroad's mission make more sense. **

Begin Recording

Railroad

Recording by Scribe Ellison

And I guess you want to know about the Railroad too, now that I've said the uncomfortable things about your own lot.

So I tracked down the Railroad. It was very spy stuff, a long scavenger hunt, a password, a hidden base. I only had Dogmeat with me because bringing a journalist and a detective along looking for a secret society was probably not a good idea. Nick and Piper had both wanted to come, and both expressed doubt that the Railroad really existed. It seemed too neat, too much like a story: the secret underdog rebels fighting the evil empire!

But they do exist and I found their secret headquarters. And found myself face to face with a spotlight and three very scary people, one of them spinning up a minigun. The sound was really loud in the underground room and I went very still and held my hands away from my weapons. Beside me Dogmeat ducked down, feeling the sudden tension. The woman in the middle, unarmed but no less scary, held up a warning hand. "Stop right there. You went to a lot of effort to arrange this meeting so before we go any further, who the hell are you?"

"I followed your clues looking for the Railroad. I'm not your enemy."

"Who told you how to find us?"

"Nobody. Your 'subtle hint' is kind of common knowledge up there, and I found the first clue at Boston Common and realized that must be what it meant." Actually Nick had told me the 'hint' but it's hardly unknown in Diamond City. What is unknown is what the phrase points to, which I'd known from before the war.

"So you guessed. Hmm. I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad."

I opened my mouth to introduce myself and hopefully convince the scary pale-haired woman to put down the minigun when someone spoke from behind them.

"I didn't know you were having a party, what gives with my invitation?" a guy in sunglasses and a white shirt was leaning on the wall in the passageway, posing.

Desdemona turned to glare at him. "Deacon! Where have you been? And who _is_ this?"

But the whole room had relaxed when Deacon appeared. He seemed totally calm. "News flash, boss! This lady is kind of a big deal out there. Em-i-ly Mason, leader of the new Minutemen, ring any bells? Half the Commonwealth is flying her flag!"

Desdemona's expression had gone from suspicious to speculative.

Deacon didn't let her get a word in edgewise. "And if that wasn't enough, the Railroad owes her a crate, no, a truckload of Nuka-cola for finally putting a bullet in Kellogg's head."

"So you're vouching for her?"

"Yes. Trust me, she's someone we want on our side. And her dog's cute."

At last the minigun powered down as Desdemona gave a nod to the woman holding it. "That changes things. So, stranger, why did you want to meet with us anyway?"

I let myself relax from the 'don't shoot me' pose and told them everything. "I'm looking for anyone who can tell me anything about the Institute. They kidnapped my son, so I have to find them. Find Shaun, and make sure the Institute won't ever tear apart another family like they did mine."

That was the right thing to say. Deacon quirked an eyebrow above his shades and smiled, and Desdemona nodded a little. "Amen to that. I think we can help each other, but I need to know we're on the same page. You know what a synth is, right?"

"I've heard a lot of things..." I hesitated, wanting to hear their viewpoint.

"The Institute created synths. Synthetic humans. They're mostly organic, part machine. Somewhere along the line they became more than just constructs. They think, they feel, they act just like you and me. But the Institute treats them as property. As tools."

Deacon, who'd taken the opportunity to hold out his hands to Dogmeat offering ear scratches, joined in, "They don't understand that in trying to create humans they've… created humans. With human dignity, and deserving human rights. The Institute is basically playing god, tinkering with their creations without any concern for them. From their _lofty vantage_ as creators it's easy for them to deny their creations' humanity."

I offered, "Sounds like slavery."

Desdemona's voice lowered with intensity, "It does. We seek to free the synths from their bondage, to give them a chance at a real life. I have a question for you, stranger, the only question that matters. Would you risk your life to help your fellow man, even if that man is a synth?"

The only question that matters. I knew the answer, but I had to take a minute to think how to say it, to suit the moment. "As the General of the Minutemen… when the harvest needs extra hands it doesn't matter if those hands are human, ghoul, synth. I risk my life for people every day and it doesn't matter if that person is a human, ghoul or synth."

"Well said." Desdemona smiled, satisfied. "Someone with your skills, your beliefs, normally we'd recruit you. But we don't have the time to train up another agent. If you'd like to help further, talk to Deacon. You're free to go. Drummer Boy, Glory, stand down. I think we can trust her, for now." The other two headed back inside, without saying hello. Glory probably wanted to put down the minigun, she's really strong but her shoulders must've been screaming by then. Desdemona hesitated to give me a last look over, taking in my mismatched armor and guns, and the fact that Dogmeat was also armored but enthusiastically wagging his tail as Deacon petted over him. I took the moment to look back. Without the deep lines of tension in her face I realized Desdemona is no older than I am. We had a lot in common, both leaders of causes with people depending on us. It's no surprise I came to respect her a great deal and she eventually came to respect me as well.

Deacon, though, I immediately liked because he was cooing over my dog. He said, "Hope you didn't mind the reception. When you tango with the Institute you have to be careful of anyone new on the dance floor. But I vouched for you, nobody got shot, it's all good."

"Thank you. But how did you..?"

"In our little outfit it's my job to know things. And with everything you've done it's clear you're capable. A dangerous enemy and, I'm betting, a valuable ally. Still I'd consider it a close personal favor if you didn't sell us out to the Institute."

"Wasn't planning to, but it's still a big step for you to trust me."

"'Trust' might be a bit of an overstatement so far, but we just survived a hell of a crisis so we may be just a teeny weeny bit desperate for new members. If everything was sunshine and bottlecaps we'd probably play a longer 'getting to know you' game. But we don't have that luxury. I've looked you up, asked around. You seem like a good fit for the family. So Des wants to make you a 'tourist' which is someone who helps with odd jobs but isn't really a member. What a waste. I'm just gonna come out and say it: the Railroad needs you"

"Needs me? Desdemona didn't seem to think so."

"Ah, she was just thinking of the time it'd take to train you. And if you were some hick from the burbs she'd be right. But I'm betting you just need a few pointers and a target."

And that's how I joined the Railroad. Well, that and a hair-raising job with Deacon to prove myself.

Job done I was invited into the Railroad headquarters, a cozy underground bunker with brick walls. It's kind of a wonderful place, by the way. It has a board with sketches of suspected synths with connections between them shown by colored yarn and a blackboard with the Railroad's secret signs. Which I can't tell you about. I can describe Tinker Tom, since I don't think you'll ever run into him in the real world. The official engineer of the Railroad, he's a delightful and slightly nutty guy with a great hat he put together himself from useful pieces including a flashlight. We've had long disjointed conversations about making useful machines out of wasteland scrap and he and Sturges eventually figured out how to exchange messages and they have long, long-distance conversations about engineering.

I spent a lot more time with Deacon, who's the official errand runner. He's everywhere at all times, and I can guarantee you've seen him since you came to the Commonwealth. He visits the caravan camp pretty often in disguise to see what's new and we don't always catch him.

When the Institute creates a synth to replace someone they steal the original person—they have a teleporter, they can put a canister of sleeping gas in a building and nobody's the wiser. The synth wakes up remembering all of the human's life up until he went to bed, not realizing that somewhere in his brain is a bunch of commands from the Institute and the memories of the poor human getting their brain scanned and then the synth watching _himself_ get dragged off to be experimented on.

Doctor Amari could give you the science talk about 'neural layers' and 'mental integration' but the short version is that the conscious brain starts to notice this other stuff is in there and starts cracking up. The human fight or flight reflex is scary enough, and the synth programming copy of it is a lot worse. Basically the box cracks open, the person realizes they're a synth and goes berserk. Or the conscious brain doesn't notice and the person continues feeding information to the Institute or whatever and not knowing they've done it.

The Railroad's mission is to track down these synths and wake them up so they can go berserk while safely restrained. Then the synth can make his own decision, to continue the life of the human his memories came from or have his mind wiped and start fresh. Once the synth's mind has been 'integrated' he's not dangerous and can't be controlled by programming and is basically just a person.

Not all synths are dangerous in this way. Some know they're synths and are consciously working for the Institute. The Railroad would like to know who they are to limit how much help they can be to the Institute. Well, and maybe kill them so they can't be any help to the Institute. When the goal of helping synths and the goal of fighting the Institute conflict, there's a lot of argument down in the bunker.

Oh, and coursers don't go berserk because they don't have enough personality to interfere with their programming. They can't be freed either. They're just that creepy.

So that's the mission and I was glad to get on board with it. I did a few runs, mostly with Deacon, in between other stories I've told you. Helped some synths, heard their memories of the Institute. None of the ones I asked about it knew very much, they saw white walls and white people and machines, and then there's the memory of seeing their own self being killed or hauled off in terror. A human would know what being in the Institute means. So that's a synth's first real memory, which doesn't help their mental stability either.

Ugh, I need to stop imagining that or we'll never finish this story.

Yes, I worry that I'm a synth. I've stayed overnight in the Institute. It could've happened. But I'm sure that Deacon wanders up here so often to make sure I'm still myself.

The 'synth zapper'? Deacon named it that. He suggested a couple of names, and that one was the most dignified. Doctor Amari found a frequency that unlocks the memory box in a synth's head and restores all their memories and Tinker Tom made a machine that emits it. Saying it like that makes it sound simple, but the Railroad was working on the thing for _years_ and 'frequency' isn't quite the right word and 'machine' may not be right either. I don't want to think how many mentats Tom took while he was putting it together.

When I brought in the courser chip Deacon already knew, because he always already knows everything, and greeted me wearing a party hat and passing Nuka-colas around to everyone in celebration. "You really did it! Jenny got in touch with one of our agents and she described you but it was still hard to believe. It's been years since the last time we got an intact courser chip to play with!"

I pulled the chip back. "You can play with it after Tom decrypts the data on it for me. Gimme that holotape and the chip's all yours."

Tom plugged the chip in to his terminal and muttered over his keyboard for a while, while the rest of us hovered, and he succeeded where Virgil had failed. "Got you, you Institute bastard, I've got you! Look at that sweet sweet data!"

I looked, but green letters and symbols on a screen didn't mean much to me. A diagram scrolled past and Tom made noises of great delight. "Give me a minute to get this on a tape for you. Ooh, what's _this_ for? I don't even know what some of these words mean but it's clearly a schematic. Ok, here you go." Tom passed me a holotape and turned back to his terminal. As far as he was concerned the rest of us vanished from the world as he got back into the data.

Desdemona was right there with a threat. "If you learn anything about the Institute from that data, it comes to us first. Or our relationship will be in jeopardy."

I raised my eyebrows. By this time I was a pretty solid member of the Railroad. "Des, I've seen plenty of what the Institute does to synths and people. Once I know my son is safe we're on the same page."

That seemed to be enough, but it was the first sign that no matter how much I was trusted with the Railroad's names and faces I wasn't trusted to put their interests first. And Desdemona was right, in the end I didn't do what she wanted.


	40. Lightning

Begin Recording

Lightning

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Even after getting the chip decrypted I couldn't go straight back to Virgil. Settlements keep needing help and they really want me to come in person. If the problem is just raiders I can send a troop of Minutemen, but if the problem is Brotherhood members trying to extort more food than they're owed then they really need me to show up and glare in person.

Eventually I got free and could return to Virgil with the holotape. He'd gotten taller and more misshapen in the time between my visits, but I must've caught him on a good day because he seemed more focused.

"Didn't expect to see you again. Did you get it done?"

I nodded, only halfway out of my radiation suit, and dug out the tape. "I did. This disk should have everything that was in the courser's head. I saw some schematics while it was being decrypted.."

Virgil took the tape and loaded it into his terminal. "Ah! I know what to do with this. How'd you manage to get it decoded?"

"The Railroad helped me."

"Oh god, those kooks? I'd've thought they'd be too busy trying to liberate vending machines or setting computer terminals free or… sorry, they have something of a reputation."

I gaped. "Wait, the Institute knows about..?"

"Of course they do! Anytime a synth goes rogue, the Railroad is behind it. Trying to make those machines into people. But I guess any port in a storm."

It felt… something, to think that the Railroad was so terrified of the Institute and the Institute just thought of them as a bunch of kooks. I kept my mouth shut and drank some water and rested after my latest hike across the Glowing Sea. And swore to myself that once Virgil had his serum I would never enter the awful place again.

I had time for a nap before Virgil finished his work and presented me with the holotape and some actual paper printouts. "I've put some plans together, from memory and things I've overheard, and now with this data to fill in the gaps you should have a working set of schematics. It wasn't easy, these hands are ridiculous. Fine motor skills have gone to shit." He stopped to snarl at his swollen hands. "Here's the simple explanation. You need to build a device that will hijack the signal the institute uses to teleport coursers and send you instead. You know the craziest part of the design? That classical music station, that's the carrier signal for the relay. All the data is on harmonic frequencies. You've been hearing it all along."

I've danced to it.

"Is this… safe? Teleporting?"

Virgil's massive shoulders shifted a little in a not-quite shrug. "I want to be clear this isn't my area of expertise. I was bioscience, not engineering or advanced systems or anything."

"Bioscience?" I asked.

"Specialized groups within the Institute, working on different projects. It'll make sense later. But if you can build this device and use the code you should be able to override the signal from the Institute's relay. It'll be just as safe for you as for a courser, or me when I used it to get out. Can you—can you build it? You have people who can help?"

That at least was something I wasn't worried about. "I have people who'd fall all over themselves to try building this."

"Good. You have to do this, for both our sakes. And don't forget our agreement! I've helped you as best I can, if you make it in there you find my serum! It's my only hope for ever being… normal!"

"If I get into the Institute I'll do everything I can to get the serum." I promised. I packed the holotape and plans into my radiation suit and climbed it. The power armor sealed itself around me and pressurized, the air purifier coming on. The heads up display loaded and came on. No faults reported. "Goodbye Doctor Virgil. I'll be back with your serum."

Or not at all, I didn't say.

I walked back across the Glowing Sea, then up to Sanctuary where Doc Jenna greeted me with a bag of radaway. Which is better than catching the glows but the side effects aren't great. So I was flat on my back between trips to the latrine when I gave Sturges the blueprints.

"Wow, what a mess!" Was his reaction. He delivered me a list of parts, got on the radio with Tinker Tom, and came back to give me another list of parts. Intact military circuit boards, a sensor module that I had to get from Trinity Tower since Danse wouldn't let me borrow the deep range transmitter unless I told him what I wanted it for. The biometric scanner I knew where find, because one of their uses is scanning pregnant ladies. So it was off to Kendall Hospital where Shaun was born. I had a whole troop of Minutemen along and we hauled back tons of medical equipment for Doc Jenna. There were enough of us that the raiders holding the place barely fought back. So that was fun, except for the deathclaw.

It took weeks… a month maybe for me to fetch the parts and Sturges to put together the whole thing. We built it right over there, that's why there's nothing built on that foundation. It was huge, a sort of… a platform to stand on, with a giant three-legged structure holding the beam emitter overhead. That thing glowed blue and crackled and dripped lightning, equal parts pretty and terrifying. It didn't look like anything you should get close to much less stand under. There was also a big pointy satellite dish that would relay _me_ once my body and mind had been translated into radio signals. It didn't sound real, but Kellogg had seen it happen and Virgil assured me coursers traveled that way all the time and they have all the same biology as humans.

Yeah, there's nothing there now. The molecular relay we built only worked once so when he couldn't fix it Sturges eventually pulled the whole thing apart to reuse the pieces. Shaun helped, he thought it was great fun.

And then we were almost done and I had to think about what would happen if it worked. Would I really relay to the Institute? Would I live long enough to find Shaun or would there be so many synths they'd just kill me instantly? Would the 'me' that came back be a synth? Would the Institute take this as an invasion and send coursers to wipe out Sanctuary? Was there any, any, way this would be all right? But I couldn't give up on my son.

It would be me in the machine because I wasn't letting anybody else risk it. Deacon had offered. Nick had offered. Paladin Danse would probably have offered but I hadn't told him what we were doing because I didn't trust him not to tell the rest of the Brotherhood who would then come steal our machine. It's much nicer now when I can _tell_ Danse and Haylin things! So it would be me taking the big trip.

"But not you _first_." Sturges said, "I'm not pulling that lever on you until some other living thing has gone and come back safely. Preferably something that went in a metal cage so I know for sure you won't get electrocuted by your own guns."

So Preston and Jimmy taught me how to make leg snares to catch a molerat alive. We went to Starlight drive-in and set them and sat around in the diner while I told them the stories of movies until we heard squealing. We'd gotten three molerats and we tied their legs together and slung them over a pole that Preston and I carried home between us. We made cages by typing shopping baskets together. If they survived being surrounded by that much metal I should be fine carrying two guns.

That was a nice break from my other job: writing my will. I didn't have a lot of caps to leave behind but I did want to leave in writing things like "Please take care of Dogmeat." and "I know you don't want to be in charge, Preston, but it's you or Ronnie Shaw and I don't think she's General material." And, "If there's a body, please bury me next to Nate." I'd taken on so much responsibility so fast. For Jimmy, for Sanctuary and its allied settlements, for rebuilding the Minutemen and freeing synths and helping Piper track down stories and Nick track down runaways. People would miss me. And I'd miss them. At the bottom of the page I added, "Noodles and beer on me when I get back."

And then it was done and ready to be tested. Nick and Piper had come up from Diamond City to be there for the event and Deacon had wandered in and out in three different caravanner disguises before I finally caught him and said, "Just admit you're here and eat dinner with the rest of us! Everybody, this is my friend Deacon. He's here to make sure it's really me that comes back."

Deacon nodded a general hello to the settlers and visitors eating at the picnic table and said, "What should I do if it isn't? Shoot or don't shoot?"

That was my punishment for drawing attention to him in front of the settlement and in retrospect I deserved it. "Don't shoot. It might be better to have… someone who looks like me, for the Minutemen. Even though the idea gives me the creeps."

Deacon nodded and did a little salute.

Piper, catching up to the whole horrifying idea, said, "You mean if you're a synth?"

"If I'm dead but there's synth who wants to fight raiders and protect the settlements, we might as well let her do it. Just remember I..." and my voice broke in the middle of sounding so confidant. It wasn't going to help anything for my friends to know how scared I was. Because I was, of course I was. This was goodbye in case I didn't come back.

I was going in the morning. The machine made a massive flash of lightning when used and we didn't want it going up like a flare at night for the entire Commonwealth to see. So I had the whole dinner to say goodbye and act confidant and then nobody would let me take a watch, so I'd be well rested for my adventure in the morning. Dinner was hardly over when I was back home repacking my gun harness for the third time while Dogmeat watched from the couch. How many bullets per synth?

Sturges knocked on the door with another present for me. "Plug this into any terminal in the institute and it'll drink up all the data it can get. I want more schematics and… our new friends… are hoping for a list of people who've been replaced by synths. And hell, maybe the Institute keeps a file entitled 'Our Evil Plan.' That'd make things simple."

I tucked the holotape, which was double size and equipped with a multi-headed plug that should be able to connect to whatever tech the Institute was using, into one of my pouches. "I'll do it if I can."

Sturges hesitated, "Just come back safe, willya?"

I smiled. "I'll sure try."

After him Mama Murphy knocked on the door, blank-eyed and stumbling in the doorway. I bit back the automatic 'Who gave you jet?' because even though I'd been logical and said Mama Murphy could take chems if she wanted, I really wished she wouldn't because I always worried she'd take too much.

Mama Murphy smiled her watery smile and said, "Don't act like my mother. You're about to go into danger and you need the guidance of the sight."

I sighed and motioned Mama Murphy to a chair while I sat down on the couch next to my dog. "I'll take any help I can get at this point. What guidance does the sight have for me?"

Mama Murphy sat down, took a deep breath and closed her eyes to focus on her mystical vision. "I see you lost… running through an alien place. You're searching for something, but when you find it… oh, when you find it. Hard times, kid."

Her eyes flicked back and forth behind their lids and I waited for more. When it didn't come I opened my mouth to ask the most important question… and realized there were two most important questions. "Will I find Shaun? And will I come back?"

"Oh you'll come back. All your friends, their energy will draw you back to us. But your son… there are dark clouds around him. He is alive, but beyond that my sight cannot see. Ah… that's it, that's all I've got for you."

Well that was both worrying and reassuring. I had my doubts about 'energy' the way Mama Murphy talked about it, but… determination is certainly real. I was thinking I might never see these people again, which suddenly made me realize just how much I wanted to see these people again. "Thank you, Mama Murphy. I'll remember what you said."

"Stay strong, kid. This is your destiny, and it will hurt."

"Well I don't doubt _that_." I said dryly. "Now while I'm gone, no more chems, ok? You know I'll come back so don't try to see me."

"All right. Now get some sleep."

In the morning we loaded a caged molerat into the machine and stood well back when Sturges pulled the lever. Lightning roared down and the caged rat disappeared leaving behind wisps of ozone-smelling smoke.

_Everybody_ was watching, and everybody carefully didn't comment on how scary it looked. But it showed on their faces. Nick had his blankest synth face on trying not to look worried. Preston said, "I know it'll be worth it if this works out, but I kind of wish you wouldn't go."

I kind of wished it too. "I'll come back as soon as I can, but if something happens it might be days. If Deacon—wherever he is—says I'm a synth, believe him. Doubt anything else that comes out of his mouth, but not that."

Sturges said, "Moment of truth." and lightning flashed again. The molerat was back, in another cloud of smoke. Looking upset and panting, but unhurt. I touched the cage and didn't even get a shock from the steel shopping basket we'd made it from. My Pip-boy reported no radiation or toxins.

"Well it works." Suddenly my heart was pounding and I was smiling as something like excitement flickered. I hopped off the platform and hugged Preston, hugged Piper, and gave Nick a quick kiss on the cheek. Deacon had become visible behind everyone else and I waved and called, "Whatever comes back don't let it hurt anyone!" And I stepped into the machine, with a nervous look up at the bit the lightning came from.

Sturges said, "I'm bringing you back in five minutes, if you're still there at the other end. Tell me when you're ready to go."

Dignity be damned, I scrunched down and covered my eyes. "Ready!"

There was a deafening crack and the inside of my eyelids blazed red.


	41. Immediately

Begin Recording

Immediately

Recording by Scribe Ellison

This is what I heard about later.

Immediately as the smoke cleared Piper began, "Send me along too, Blue might need a hand..." and Deacon actually shoved his way into the machine and hollered, "Pull the lever!"

Sturges hesitated, but I guess he decided a stranger in sunglasses was an acceptable sacrifice and did it. The lightning flashed but Deacon remained where he was, his white shirt now slightly singed.

There was immediate panic at this and poor Sturges immediately got, "What happened?!" form everybody. He checked the equipment and realized something even worse. "Nothing's wrong. The transmission was turned back from the other end!"

"Institute knows where we are. Damn!" And Preston went to hit the red alert. All of Sanctuary spent the next hour in our sniper nests waiting for a synth invasion. That didn't come, thank goodness. But that's what happened right after I left.

Of course when Sturges tried to bring me back I wasn't there.


	42. It was Boring

Begin Recording

It Was Boring

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Brother and sister scribes, I'm sure you're waiting for the climax of this story as much as I am—but the General's been called away to help detective Valentine with a case. So I will record several days of tapes while we all wait impatiently for her to come back.

At least we know the story has a happy ending because Shaun is here in Sanctuary. Today he's making a book. The kid is always fiddling with something. He looks like his mother, ragged black hair and bright eyes.

"Are you making a tape? Can I talk on it?"

"Sure, what do you want to tell the rest of the scribes?"

"Hellooooo Arlington Library! This is Shaun Mason. I'm sewing a book. Did any of you ever make one from scratch?"

"Mostly we use holotapes, but I think my teacher Scribe Yearling made a book once to see how they did it before the war. Are you going to write the words too?"

Shaun looks down to make a stitch. "No, it's for my brother Jimmy. He wants to write the New Adventures of Grognak and it's better if it's in a real book. And books are nice."

Now that I can agree on! "Want to be a field scribe when you grow up?"

The boy grins. "Maybe! Shiloh wants to be a paladin and jump out of vertibirds but I'd rather fix things. How did you get to be a field scribe?"

So I waste a little holotape space with my story, since Shaun keeps asking. "I had so many siblings we didn't fit in our apartment in Rivet City, so Papa delivered me to Scribe Yearling so the Brotherhood would give me a place to live. I just wanted to find prewar books and read them but I had to be an initiate first and run miles and do a thousand push-ups and learn to wear power armor."

Shaun asks, "Did you hurt yourself? Mom won't let me try hers on because she's afraid I'll hurt myself."

"Well the first thing the teacher said was..." and I try to mimic the deep voice of the huge paladin who taught us initiates, "'Power armor is stronger than the tendons in your shoulders and the joints in your knees, that's why we do exercises so the doc-bot doesn't have to push your parts back into place!'"

"Yeah, Mom does exercises in her power armor, Paladin Danse taught her. He's really nice. Mom says the rest of the Brotherhood isn't as nice."

This is clearly a question. "Well… I always heard Paladin Danse got where he is by being a decent person, but the rest of us have a whole history. Elder Maxson follows the original purpose of the Brotherhood, to make sure nobody ever gets their hands on the kind of technology that caused the Great War. That's why he came to fight the Institute, to destroy their dangerous technology. And take out anyone that got in his way.

"But about fifteen years ago we had another elder, Elder Lyons, and he wanted to use technology to help get clean water for everyone in the Capital. He got a lot of people killed doing that, but the other scribes at Arlington Library and some of the other members thought his ideas were good. Elder Maxson did not invite us to go along on the Prydwen so we're still living in the Capital Wasteland, trying to pull all the people together like your mom is doing up here."

I didn't tell the boy that the Brotherhood is in danger of fracturing again and that if his sister wants to wear the best power armor she'll have to pick the winning side, whichever one that is. We talked some more about the Citadel and the Arlington Library and Brotherhood operations in the Capital before I asked, "So we're all waiting to hear what your mom found in the Institute, but you were already there weren't you? Want to tell everyone what it was like?"

"The Institute is like..." The boy holds a piece of blank paper in front of his face and intones in his best doomful voice, "Like this. White. And boring."

I laugh. "How can it be boring? Don't they have amazing technology?"

"I guess, but you can't _do_ anything with it. Nobody _does_ anything, it's just school and tests all day. Alice and Julia and Quentin just wanted to be scientists so all they wanted to do was school. Shiloh is a pain in the neck but at least she wants to do things."

"What happened when your mom first came to the Institute?"

A shrug. "She made a lot of trouble but nobody told me about it. Nobody told me she was my mom for a long time either, so I was scared of her at first but she was always nice to me."

He doesn't know what I'm really curious about, or else he knows it so well he doesn't think I'd be interested. So my attempts to learn the story are a failure.


	43. Revelation

Begin Recording

Revelation

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Another day. I've been drafted into helping the children with their waterwheel, which has reached the point of digging a post hole by the stream behind sanctuary. As far as I can tell there is no planned purpose for the waterwheel; Shaun just wants to see 'whether or not I can' and the rest of the kids are helping out just for something to do even though it's more manual labor.

We've just wrangled a large rock, out of the hole when the siren rings the all clear to announce visitors. It's a trader from the Capital Wasteland and with him a young woman in the robe and cowl of the Children of Atom but with a new symbol on her robe: the atom symbol with a sprout growing from the center dot.

This was Mother Aniis, a missionary on her way to Diamond City to seek converts. She's come here to pick up Adam and Jill who are going to Diamond City, Jill to live with family and Adam to stay with the missionary while they attend school.

I ask the missionary for her story and she's happy to oblige.

"Atom came to me in a vision. He gave me a new path for his followers, one that celebrates the life born from his great division. We have been purified and no longer need to scourge ourselves with the crude physical; we hold the glow within! Henceforth we will dedicate ourselves to using Atom's gifts to bring life to this world that he has blessed with his coming."

Adam is rapt and follows the missionary around.

Jill has family in Diamond City, newly tracked down by Nick Valentine, who want her to move in with them. I've heard a bit of Jill's history over the past month and it's a lonely one. Her family traveled the wasteland, losing members one by one until Jill's mother joined a cult and died of the glows leaving her child alone. At least the two have places to go.

The General asked Jill and Adam where they wanted to live. They could have stayed, though none of the settlers in Sanctuary has stepped forward to adopt them like the Longs did baby Boomer. The children could also have gone to Spectacle Island, the safest of the settlements where unattached children often end up. The way I hear it they run in wild herds across the island. All right, I've also heard that the island is more like a nursery school. Unattached children also sometimes end up at the school in Diamond City but there is a limit to how many orphans the city can support. Mayor McDonough was delighted when he realized the city could dump its orphans on the Minutemen settlements. Just like half of our apprentices at the Citadel are orphans from the Capital Wasteland.

The missionary has also brought gifts from the Treeminders, which bring everybody to look, and then everybody is disappointed that trees start out so small. Shiloh looks from the tiny saplings to the huge stump of a very dead tree that must once have cast shade over half of Sanctuary. "Mom said she wanted another tree to put there but I think she meant a big one."

Mother Aniis tells her, "These are orange maple trees. They won't grow that big, but their sap turns into syrup and they grow fruit that you can eat."

"Orange fruit like they had before the war?"

"Well not exactly. I sold a shipment in Underworld and the ghouls said these oranges are too small and don't taste right so they're… mut-oranges. But they grow in irradiated soil, which is a blessing from Atom."


	44. Moonshine

**The Poisoner's Handbook is really good. Read the book, watch the documentary. Learn about murder, mischance, and moonshine. This chapter might have been more detailed if I hadn't loaned my copy of the book to a friend before we ended up in separate quarantines. Who'd'a thunk there would come a time when I couldn't just get anything from the library?**

Begin Recording

Moonshine

Recording by Scribe Ellison

At last, the General has returned! Later than we expected. Doc Jenna asks. "What have you been up to?"

"Getting plastered in Goodneighbor. The party lasted longer than the case, or at least it feels that way."

Later on I get the full story.

"A batch of bad gin hit The Third Rail and left three people blind. Mayor Hancock wanted the source found yesterday so he called in Valentine who called me to be another gun and Piper to report on events. If there's an idiot out there who doesn't know what not to put in a still everyone needs to know about it right away.

"So Nick asked some questions and tracked the gin to the person who made it and the person he bought the moonshine from who'd transported it from a brewing outfit just starting up in an old cannery. They'd converted some big vats to distill alcohol and loaded them with razorgrain—and sawdust to stretch it. So what came out was poison. What our Tom makes for Doc Jenna to sterilize her surgical instruments. Poor idiots didn't even know what they were making.

"We handcuffed them and hauled them back to Goodneighbor and Mayor Hancock gave them the most blistering lecture I've ever heard and informed them that they would now be working in Goodneighbor and supporting the three drifters who'd gone blind. Which is indentured servitude which isn't great, but I was just thankful Hancock hadn't gone all eye-for-an-eye. Messengers went out to warn every place that might have bought the bad moonshine.

"Whitechapel Charlie was thankful we'd saved the rest of his customers and kept the drinks coming and pretty soon we were sharing a large table with the mayor and Nick's friend Irma and Daisy and Magnolia who Piper invited over and Emogene Cabot who just seemed to be there. Piper managed to write her article, drink, and flirt with Magnolia at the same time. And I discovered that a one-with-dinner occasional drinker shouldn't have six or seven in one night even if a nice cockney robot keeps offering her different drinks to try. Not sure what happened after that, but I woke up in the mayor's guest room determined never to party that hard again."


	45. Son

**Oh man, Father is a character I could've taken in so many ways, he's fascinating, and he's so wordy, and turning a game infodump into a story is hard, and this is the pivotal chapter that I have to get right… but no pressure! x_x **

Begin Recording

Son

Recording by Scribe Ellison

It took a moment for my vision to clear and I found myself in a small room, rounded like the inside of an egg with lights and panels around the wall. Blue light dripped lazily from the ceiling. There was no sound, and for a moment I thought I'd gone deaf, but my shoes scuffed on the floor when I stepped through the doorway into what had to be the control room for the molecular relay. Lots of banks of dials, crates I later found out were the recall boxes for resource gathering. It reminded me a little of the vault, cleaner than anything on the surface but still looking old and a little dusty, like a place people didn't spend much time.

The air smelled—indoors. Still and scentless in a way I hadn't experienced in two hundred years.

Maybe that was what made the fear subside. Nothing was attacking me and the place smelled familiar.

My pip-boy chirped. Two minutes had passed. I already knew I wasn't going to be in the chamber when Sturges tried to bring me back. But I could send something else. I plugged the holotape he'd given me into the terminal. It found a local network and copied every file within reach. When the tape was full I put it in the molecular relay chamber and turned away, toward the control room's other exit.

"Hello." Said a voice. I jumped and looked up, remembering Kellogg. This voice was calm and almost familiar. "I wondered if you might make it here. I'm known as Father, and the Institute is under my guidance. I know why you're here and I'd like to discuss things with you face to face. Please, step into the elevator."

Familiar because it reminded me of my own father's voice. And sounding so unsurprised that I'd reached this place.

Just down the only hallway a glass elevator came up into the center of a round room with more control panels on the walls.

The molecular relay went off behind me, returning the holotape. No going back.

I stepped into the elevator and it began to sink slowly through the floor. Father's voice spoke again from a speaker above my head. "I can only imagine what you've heard, what you think of us. I'd like to show you that you may have the wrong impression. Welcome to the Institute."

And the elevator passed into a glass shaft above a beautiful place. Bright green trees bursting with life, clear water falling into stepped pools. Clean white walls and glass bridges arching up and up. It was a world untouched by the war. There were people too, tall and healthy looking and dressed in white because they never had to kneel in the mud weeding. They stood without fear and I don't think any of them noticed the grimy stranger in the elevator.

I had my hands against the glass, looking out through the reflection of my own stunned face, gaping at all this beauty where I hadn't expected it.

Father was still speaking and some part of my mind heard the words. "This is the reality of the Institute. This place, these people. The work we do. For over a hundred years we've dedicated ourselves to humanity's survival. Decades of research, countless experiments and trials, a shared vision of how science can shape the future. It has never been easy, and our actions are often misinterpreted by those above ground. Someday perhaps we can show them what we've accomplished but for now we must remain underground. There's too much at stake to risk it all. As you've seen, things above are… unstable."

The elevator continued down, below the level of the trees, and stopped at the opening to another plain hallway.

"I'd like to talk to you about what we can do, for everyone. But that can wait. You are here for a specific, very personal reason. You are here for your son."

I couldn't speak, after what I'd just seen I could barely think. Father's last words brought me back and I nodded jerkily in case he could see me. Shaun. Shaun was _here_ and here was so far from what I'd imagined.

I stepped into the hallway. White—the Institute is very white. Clean walls, neatly rounded edges. A second, smaller elevator took me up a level and when I stepped out of it I saw my son on the other side of a glass wall.

He was dressed in white but he looked just like he had in Kellogg's memory. Just like me. He was in a glass-fronted cell with a bed and chair, like an animal on display but with half a dozen science magazines scattered around him.

"Shaun? Shaun!" And I was running over, hands on the glass wall then tugging at the door. "Baby it's me, it's your mom. Who locked you in there?"

Of course he didn't know me, and I frightened him. He scooted back from the glass, "Who are you? Leave me alone! Father!"

Another door hummed open and Father walked in. Calmly, unafraid though I was holding my pistol ready to whack the lock off the cell someone had locked my son in. I must have looked like a madwoman.

Father was an old man, with salt and pepper hair fading to silver and a neatly trimmed beard. He, as much as his home, looked like the war had never happened. Familiar. Father barely glanced at me, turning instead to Shaun. "Shaun. 59-23, recall code cirrus."

The boy slumped, seeming to go to sleep standing up.

I spun, my pistol coming up even as my mind recognized the words. A synth command code. Shaun was- "What did you do to him?"

But Father didn't look at me. "Fascinating but disappointing. The child's responses were not at all what I anticipated. Well, he is a prototype, we're only now beginning to explore the effects of extreme emotional stimuli..."

Father seemed to finally realize I was pointing a pistol at him and raised his hands slightly in a gesture of peace. He still didn't sound afraid. "Please try to understand. I realize that you're… emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges. Let's begin anew. I am Father. Welcome to the Institute."

The things I'd seen in the past ten minutes had left me more 'emotional' than my year in the wasteland. I forced myself to take a deep breath and lower the gun. I wasn't going to shoot him. I was going to get answers, _all_ the answers, and there would probably be yelling and crying involved but then I'd know. I looked at the boy, shut down. "Help me understand what's going on here. Where's Shaun—the real Shaun?" My voice was almost steady.

"I promised you answers, and answers you shall have. But I need you to realize this situation is far more complicated than you could have imagined. You've traveled very far and suffered a great deal to find your son." Father paused, took a breath. "It's good to finally meet you, after all this time. It's me, I am Shaun. I am… your son."

The world went gray for an instant, the pistol dropped from my hand, and Father reached out to take my arm to steady me. I didn't doubt what he said. Looking back I should have. He could've been anybody. He could've been a synth. But he looked—I could see my own father in his eyes, I could see Nate in the shape of his face. So I believed it. "How? You're..."

"I know this is hard to take in." My son said gently. He gestured to a chair but I shook my head. I'd hear this standing on my own feet. When I didn't say anything he explained, "In the vault you had no concept of the passage of time. When you were released you learned your son was no longer an infant but a ten year old boy. So you believed ten years had passed since I was—lost. Is it too much to accept that it was not ten years, but sixty? That is the reality. And here I am, raised by the Institute and now its leader."

"But why? Why you?"

Father himself sat down, something in his manner suggesting that explaining things like this was something he did often. "Ah, that's a question I can answer. In the year 2227 the Institute had made great strides in synth production, but it was never enough. Scientific curiosity and the goal of perfection drove them ever onward, in search of the perfect machine. So they followed the best example thus far, the human being. Walking, talking, fully articulate and capable of anything."

"Human synths? Really?" In my memory Deacon said, _with human dignity and deserving human rights._

Father shook his head. "Human_like_ synths. An important distinction. Synthetic organics, created with human dna. Plenty of that available of course, but it had all become corrupted. In this wasteland radiation effected everyone. Even here, the members of the Institute had been exposed. But then the Institute found records from vault 111, found me. An infant frozen in time, protected from the radiation induced mutations that had crept into every other human cell in the Commonwealth. So it was my dna that became the basis of the synthetic organics, of every humanlike synth you see today. I am their Father, through science we are family. The synths, me… and you."

He sounded so proud, so happy to be able to tell me all about it, to share it with me. I was feeling a lot of things, mostly I just wanted to cry a lot and something else was starting to creep in. He'd been here, all this time he'd known I was searching for him and the boy synth… the word _bait_ flickered in my mind, then was gone. This was my son, and I wanted to know everything about his life, and this place. "So they took you. It wasn't right."

"To you that certainly seems true, but to them it was the only option. And to me… I find myself with few regrets. What else can I tell you to help you understand?"

Everything. Everything I've seen in the watseland. "So you're in charge of the Institute?"

"I'm the acting Director, yes. I spent decades working to reach this point, it's a responsibility I take very seriously. The Institute… it's important. It really is humanity's best hope for the future, no matter what those above ground think of us."

"Shaun, they're _scared_ of you, scared of the Institute! Did you know that? The people of Diamond City..."

But Father brushed it off, an actual gesture brushing the idea out of the air. "People are always frightened by what they don't understand. Ultimately the Commonwealth has nothing to fear from us! Whatever you've seen or heard, I know I can convince you of that. Just give me time."

"Nothing to fear from people like Kellogg? What the Institute did to him—and used him for?"

"Kellogg was an Institute asset long before I arrived here. It wasn't until I became Director that I learned of all the things he'd done, what kind of man he was."

"But you used him anyway."

"Would you have preferred I turn him loose upon the Commonwealth? At least keeping him on a short leash kept the collateral damage to a minimum. Institute technology prolonged his life and… usefulness far beyond any normal human lifespan but his cruelty became more apparent with every completed objective. I won't lie—it's no coincidence your path crossed his. It seemed a fitting way to allow you… us… to have some amount of… revenge. I know what he did to our family"

_The people pulling the strings_, Kellogg had said. _I'm a puppet just like you._ I could almost pity him. "He killed your father."

Hardly a flicker of emotion. "I know. I've gone over the records of the incident of course. It seems that what happened to him was an unfortunate bit of collateral damage. For many years I never questioned who my parents where. I accepted my situation and that was that. With old age comes regret, and wondering what might have been…"

Father stopped and shook his head. "But that's in the past. What matters is that you and I have a chance to begin again, now. The Institute is on the verge of certain breakthroughs, and your presence would be appreciated as we approach them. I've been a part of something amazing here, I've helped to build a life for myself and the people of the Institute, something I think you know about. Now after all these years you have an opportunity to help build a community with a real future! We can work together, isn't that what you want?"

I blinked, startled. "You want me to stay here? Live here? In the Institute?"

"Yes, that is what I propose. Is it so unthinkable? The Institute can provide a better life than anything above ground. You've been in the Commonwealth, you've seen what it's like. I assure you, you're better off with us."

Anger was sudden, and a relief from everything else I was feeling. "How can you say that? How can you be so dismissive of all those people? Everything they've done? If you've been watching me, you've seen..."

"Because it is the simple truth. And I believe you know it too. I simply ask that you give the Institute—me—a chance. A chance to show you what I've been telling you. We really do have humanity's best interests at heart. Will you take that chance?"

How could I not give him a chance? Not just a chance to show me the Institute, but a chance for him to learn everything I knew about the people on the surface. "I… all right, a chance. I don't know if I can live here. There are people counting on me." The same thing I'd said to Danse. Was my son asking the same thing, just asking me to sign up?

"You have time to decide. The Institute is now your home, as much as it is mine. Please take some time here, get to know it. Meet the people you'll be working with. The division heads have been notified of your arrival, and Doctor Lee has a chip ready to install in your Pip-boy that will allow you to come and go as you please. Did you think you were a prisoner here? No. We'll talk again after you've had some time to look around."

I wanted to ask about the synth boy, but I was done. Empty. Unable to form another sentence. So I picked up my pistol and went through the door, into a room I don't remember where a polite synth invited me to get a medical exam to make sure I wasn't carrying anything contagious. I think the autodoc may have slipped me something, because when I got out I felt a whole lot clearer and spent another day exploring the Institute before I came home—and then everything caught up with me and I had hysterics, which I guess I'll have to tell you about since breakdowns seem to be part of a story.

But that was how I met my son. He… he did care, I think. He did want to have a family relationship, to invite me to share everything he was so proud of building. But I don't think he understood… I don't know. That was how we met. He didn't call me mother, and we didn't hug.


	46. Nuclear Family

**I got a question about McCready, and the answer is sadly that he, Cait, Curie and Hancock probably won't get a lot of screen time. I'm trying to keep this story from making too many promises that I may not be able to keep. But! This story is already twice as long as I thought it would be, and I have no idea how many chapters are still to come or what may happen in them! Sorry for the non-answer, but now you know as much as I do about my own story. ^^; **

Begin Recording

Nuclear Family

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The story I've just heard from the General is tragic and has so many parts I don't know what to ask about first. My fellow scribes would probably like to know more about the institute, but the thing I can't look past, the thing I can't believe… "Shaun is..."

"Mmhm."

"And Shiloh?"

"My children are synths." Em says, with a little smile like she might be enjoying my dismay if she was less basically decent.

I'm having a terrible time reconciling this. I know Shaun and Shiloh, they're normal kids! They could be squires in a few years! I can see them now, walking past with one of Shaun's creations and a box of soap for some escapade. But I've just learned they aren't even human beings. "...why?"

"Father made Shaun as… I'm not sure he even knew. As a gift for me? Bait to bring me to search for the Institute so we could meet? A chance to give 'himself' the childhood he didn't have? All of those, maybe. It wasn't a gift I would have asked for and I… almost hated Father for the way he did it, but that wasn't Shaun's fault."

"And Shiloh?"

The General cranes around to see what the children are up to by the river, but we not sitting in a place with a good view.

"Father never meant to make another child synth but Doctor Bene worked on a lot of the programming for Shaun and he wanted to see what he could build with the data from the prototype, fine-tuning the balance between implanted memories and learning protocols. God, I'm talking like him. Every other synth starts out adult and he wanted to see what you'd get starting a synth as a child."

Shiloh herself passes just then, hauling a load of laundry. "I'm the beta!" she says proudly, "I'm very advanced!"

"Shiloh's the beta, which doesn't cause sibling rivalry at alllllll. She was made from the female half of Father's genes, which makes her almost my genetic duplicate. Doctor Bene planned to just tinker with her brain forever without waking her up. Father wouldn't have allowed it. But I couldn't just let her be an experiment, even if she wouldn't have known about it. She deserved the chance to be a person. Doctor Bene liked the idea of an experiment integrating synth children in a 'typical wasteland family structure.' I'm sure he made that phrase up on the spot because 'single mother with several male friends who are quite fatherly, two teenagers who call her mom when they feel like it, and several settlements full of volunteer babysitters plus pets and livestock' was too long to fit on the page. So I gave her the name Nate and I picked for our baby if she'd been a girl, and brought her home.

"And that's my family. Preston is kind of the childrens' father but he isn't my husband. Mama Murphy is kind of their grandmother but she isn't related to any of us. Jimmy and Kaynah remember their own mothers so I'm not really their mother. Paladin Danse just seems to like us so he's around a lot, but he's not my partner. Piper's happy to be the cool big sister to this lot, and they're long distance friends with Nat in Diamond City.

"It's not the family I thought I was going to have but… oh lord, they're going to bury the whole settlement in bubbles… but here we are."


	47. Little Stranger

Begin Recording

Little Stranger

Recording by Scribe Ellison

After letting me out of the autodoc the polite synth had shown me to a small apartment he said was mine. Once alone I sat down against the wall, curled myself into a ball and just… dealt with things, for a while. Told myself that Shaun was never coming home. Searched for a reason to ever stand up again. It took some time. Since I crawled out of my pod in the vault my whole reason for standing up was that Shaun was out there and he needed me, and now that was lost… and now I had to fight through that to realize I'd had other reasons for a while. I had other _people_ waiting for me. For them I needed to get home, and I needed to learn everything I could about the Institute, and to do that I needed to talk to people and look normal so I had to not be mourning right now.

After realizing that, standing up took another while. I made my way to the bathroom to wash my face and straighten my hair, and I made a wonderful discovery. Toothpaste! The Institute had toothpaste! That gave me a new goal: to figure out how to get more toothpaste for everybody. I brushed my teeth with my wonderful discovery, combed my hair and put it up in a fresh bun, and promised myself I could collapse again later as long as I didn't collapse now.

The whole time there was… I was probably suffering from what Doc Jenna would call serious mental trauma, I may or may not have been doped to the gills by an autodoc trying to treat that mental trauma, I was trying to act and think normally because I needed to, and the Institute truly is incredibly peaceful.

I walked out into the round space that was the heart of the Institute, gawking like a tourist. In my vault suit I couldn't pass for a local so there seemed no reason not to turn around with my head tipped back to look up at the balconies hanging above me from what must have been apartments, and the elevator column patterned with the spiral helix of dna. On my level water cascaded endlessly down glass-sided stepped pools and trees grew from islands in them. Trees like I hadn't seen since before the war, tall and bright green with health. The room spelled fresh and outdoors, but in a… clean way. No compost heap small, nothing left behind by a dog or brahmin.

There were a few people around, adults dressed in white trousers and tunics or lab coats. They politely ignored me, sending smiles my way but not interrupting my staring. I wondered what Father had told them about me.

This place was amazing, and I kept thinking of the room I'd made for my son and how pathetic it was compared to this place he had made.

I was surprised to see the boy synth sitting on a bench by the water, frowning at some bit of machinery in his hands. He looked up, met my eyes and smiled shyly so I felt safe to walk over. "Hey, sorry I scared you before. I didn't mean to—I was confused."

The boy said, "It's all right. I'm not really scared of outsiders, I even used to live outside. I don't remember what you said though. Father must've used one of my codes." His lip curls in distaste for a moment before he smiles, "Father said you're our friend, so it's nice to meet you. My name is Shaun."

"Mine is Em."

He laughed. "Your name can't just be one letter!"

I smiled too. "My whole first name is Emily but my friends at school started calling me just Em and now it's stuck."

I'd been ready to just apologize and escape the conversation, but he was looking at me with curiosity. Of course I looked pretty different from everybody else. I'd left my armor pieces in the room the polite synth said was mine but I hadn't been able to leave behind my gun harness even in a place as peaceful as this one. Of course that was what the boy noticed.

"Are those real guns? Can I see them?"

"Yes, so no. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Do you shoot people with them?"

"Only people who try to shoot me first. Mostly I shoot molerats, then I cook them and eat them."

"I know about molerats! Some came up under the stands in Diamond City and Kellogg, who was looking after me, went to shoot them and get paid. Have you been to Diamond City?"

"Lots of times, some of my friends live there. Did you like living there? Do you miss Power Noodles now that you live down here?"

"Yes! I want to eat noodles and buy scrap, Kellogg let me buy as many parts as I wanted for building things."

I cringed a little, because I did not want to think of Kellogg with any child but also sort of wanted to ask if Kellogg had treated him well. This wasn't my son, but he was still a child. "What were you trying to build today?"

"I fixed a scanner and I was trying to power it up in my desk but I overloaded the energy cell and it made a big pop and everyone jumped and the teacher said just because you're Father's favorite doesn't mean you can disrupt the class and that was my last energy cell."

My heart twisted. He reminded me of Nate. Not the fixing things but the accidentally disrupting class, and the way he told it. It sounded like Nate regaling me with the plot of the latest Grognak—a story I didn't fully appreciate until there weren't any more romance novels to read instead.

"Well..." I patted the ammo pouches on my harness and pulled out a handful of energy cells. "All yours. Have fun, just maybe not in class."

He smiled like sunshine and I flinched back because I knew I shouldn't be this happy to make this synth happy. "Hey Shaun, can I ask you something? Do you know what you are?"

"Yes. I'm a prototype personal synth. It's a pain and I have to take lots of tests."

At least Father hadn't lied to him, not about that anyway. "Tests?"

"Logic tests and story tests and strange tests like what would you do if molerats were going after people and you could push a fat man in front of them to stop them and save the people. Do you know the right answer to that one?"

The words reordered in my head and memory of college came back to me. "Um. That's called the trolley problem. There is no right answer. It's supposed to help you understand why you think what you think."

"I think people shouldn't invent questions with no answers!" The boy grumbled, and I laughed.

"Hey, Father wants me to meet all the important people in the Institute and I don't know what any of them look like. Want to show me around?"

"Sure!" The boy said immediately. Happy to spend time with a stranger. Maybe the dna we shared somehow subconsciously made him want to trust me, or maybe he was just very bored, or very lonely.

It was… it should've been… but I wasn't repulsed by him. Maybe I felt sorry for him after seeing Father shut him down with a code. Certainly I was curious to know him, to know what my son had created.

And there were thoughts I wasn't letting myself have, thoughts that started with, _Shaun runs the Institute, and the Institute…_ and then I'd have to think about everything I saw with the Railroad, and the fear in Diamond City, and the word _bait_ and if I let myself get that far I'd curl up in a room and never move again. But if my son treated this boy well, then those thoughts might not be true.


	48. Foreign Land

**We finally reached the floating city of Tiphares… oh wait, no. The Institute. We reached the Institute. **

Begin Recording

Foreign Land

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The boy synth's tour started with the places he felt were important: the canteen and the shop. Behind the counter at the commissary a synth recommended different 'food supplements' and said it had been programmed to accept 'surface currency' just for me. I let the boy pick something for each of us and handed over some caps in exchange for two bars of pressed nutrients. Not bad but not much like food either. I could see why the kid missed noodles. We ate our bars as we walked over to the 'requisitions vendor' who greeted him with an update, "You are not authorized to purchase any more energy cells on order of your teacher."

So of course I bought a few more for the kid, just for fun since the synth had no problem selling them to me. And I tried to bargain for a whole crate of toothpaste. I didn't get it; consumable hygiene products were unavailable in quantity. "The manufacturing process has been optimized to match the rate of consumption. Bulk orders must be placed in advance." So I placed one, with no idea if I'd be able to collect it.

After this I asked my guide, "All right, I need to find somebody named Doctor Li and check out Bioscience for starters."

The boy said, "Bioscience is more fun, you won't believe what we have1 come on!"

As we walked back over the water and under the trees in the central room a woman stopped me to say, "Father has done remarkable things! I would not exist were it not for him." She smiled warmly and kept walking.

I looked down at the boy for confirmation, "Is she..?"

"She's a synth. You can tell by her clothes. They do work here."

She didn't seem enslaved, not like the terrified synths who came looking for the Railroad for help. The boy pointed me up a ramp to the Bioscience wing and another synth said, "We are honored to welcome you here."

"Everybody knows who I am."

"You're Father's mother, and his guest." The synth confirmed, still smiling. That was spooky, the way everybody else was fine with my son being twice my age when I was still very not fine with it.

My son's copy led me through an arch marked with the green symbol of the Bioscience division, into another wing of the Institute. It was another very white, domed space with the walls lined with plants growing in pools of some kind of gel. No weeds, no bugs.

That seemed amazing enough to me but the boy pointed, "Look at that!"

I looked. I laughed. "Oh wow. Are they real?"

Behind glass on one side of the room two gorillas shuffled around inside a small habitat. Real, full size gorillas. We could hear them grunting and smell their animal odor through the glass.

The boy laughed too, probably at my amazement. "Sure they're real. Real synths. That's Doctor Karlin, don't bother talking to him. _That's_ the head of Bioscience."

He was a young man, scruffy and approachable. "So good to have you here! Doctor Clayton Holdren, head of the bioscience committee. I can't wait for you to see the work we're doing, it's truly amazing."

"I'm interested. What do you do here?"

"As the name implies, bioscience includes fields such as botany, genetics and medicine. Our most important directive is to ensure the health and well being of everyone in the Institute. To that end, we cultivate highly specialized breeds of flora, for use in food and medicine. We've even started to explore the idea of synthetic animal life. You can see the gorillas, they're really just a pet project at this point but the potential is exciting nonetheless."

"They're great, but why gorillas?"

"We've been years perfecting the process, and I'm afraid most of the species dna in storage had degraded. It can be reconstructed now that the gorillas have proven the concept. Now, I have to ask—have you decided whether or not you're going to join us?"

I looked back at the synth boy, watching the gorillas like a kid at the zoo while the grownups talked. I wanted to ask about synth sheep for wool and synth horses to pull carts and if I could trade for any of his specialized plants. "I'm an outsider, and definitely not a scientist. Would there even be a place for me here?"

"Even if science isn't your passion, there are plenty of ways to contribute. Our projects sometimes require an agent who can work on the surface, to observe and gather information. From what I've heard, you're both fearless and resourceful. I think you'd be ideal for that kind of role!"

I asked more questions and got an interesting lecture on Bioscience—the different types of plants and the hydroponic gel they were grown in, and his happiness that, "Father recently approved the next stage of my synth zoology initiative. Do you have any suggestions for what creature we should replicate?"

I did suggest sheep, but Doctor Holdren told me the Institute made fabric from synthetic fibers so sheep would not have a particular use. Then he said maybe a leopard.

I found myself suddenly angry at that. Wool might not be useful here but it sure would be on the surface. And it's not like Doctor Holdren was ignoring that fact on purpose. It just didn't occur to him to think about the surface world. I didn't mention it.

Next to the gorilla habitat, behind an inner wall of plants, was a doorway sealed with rows of blue laser beams instead of a door. The terminal next to it told me this was the entrance to the FEV lab. Virgil's lab. But there was no way I'd be able to hack that door open.

So, plan B. "Hey kid, is there another way to get in there? Without the grownups seeing me?"

"Alice found another door but it's a scary place. We didn't go very far. Why do you want to go in there?"

"I have to get something that's in there. You probably shouldn't come so you don't get in trouble."

But he wanted to come along, I think so he could tell the other kids about it. He led me through a door into another grow room with no people in it and then through another door into a storage room. A few more doors through progressively less-used rooms brought us to the door out of the Bioscience room into the FEV lab.

As soon as we opened the door I could tell why the kids had been scared of the place. Only red emergency lighting was on and this section looked older than the rest of the Institute. It wasn't clean and white here, but dirty and falling apart. It looked like outside. "hey kid, stay behind me all right? And if anything happens you run away." It felt strange to worry about danger in the peaceful Institute, but as we walked under a series of decontamination arches I found myself scanning the ceiling for turrets.

There were turrets, but they weren't powered. All we found were a few dead gen-two synths. One had a hole right through its chest, either a shotgun blast or… a fist. My brain presented an image of super mutant Virgil punching right through the thing on his way out.

I looked sideways at my small guide, curious how he'd react to the remains. Was this a dead body to him or… Nope, he picked up a severed hand with an expression of delight. Sturges would love this kid.

Another door brought us to the lab. Its emergency lights were green, possibly just to make the place look even more creepy. Two huge tubes were half full of some foul goo, opaque green with foam drying on the surface. The room stank unbelievably, and the boy and I both pulled our shirts up over our noses. The boy fled into the hall with a heartfelt, "Uuugh!"

I tried to look around fast so I could get out of here. There was a third tube, broken open from the inside. Big pieces of glass littered the floor. Virgil had described the serum to me. He'd put a glowing tag on it so his mutating self would still be able to find it, but his mind had been so confused he'd forgotten anyway. The tag was still glowing, attached to a small square case sitting on a desk. It looked very much like a case I had for carrying lipstick, and the vials of serum inside were the same size as lipstick tubes. I grabbed the case and a couple of holotapes on the desk near it, and fled from the stench.

The boy seemed to have enjoyed the adventure even though he hadn't come very far. "That was the grossest thing ever! What do you think was in those tubes?"

"I think I don't want to think about it." I said, because I had a pretty good idea but didn't want to say _decomposed bodies_ to a ten year old. That smell was pretty distinctive.

He was a synth. Maybe he wouldn't care.

The decontamination arches came on as we walked underneath, making me jump but it seemed they were just automated. The boy tried to scoot out from under the spray but I beckoned him back, "It'll make sure we don't stink." The chemical spray hit my hair and clothes and evaporated almost immediately, carrying away any smells or germs I might've picked up in the lab.

Nobody else seemed to have noticed out little side trip; the scientists in Bioscience nodded politely, deep in conversation about nutrient levels.


	49. Advanced Systems

**Some other fanfic writer who isn't me should just do the whole story of Madison Li, from maybe-crushin' on James to the climax of Fallout 3 to her trek to the Institute and how she gets in to wherever she ends up after the events of Fallout 4. The tale of a scientist who is involved with great deeds but isn't the great hero, and also is kind of a snappy unheroic person because she really just wants to be left alone to do science. **

Begin Recording

Advanced Systems

Recording by Scribe Ellison

The next thing I wanted was to see Advanced Systems, where supposedly someone would have a chip to let me teleport out of here. My son wanted me to stay, and maybe I could live here—but not without making sure everything in Sanctuary was set up and there were enough people to do my jobs. And I was acutely aware that after losing two days my friends probably thought I was dead, and I didn't want them to think so much longer.

The archway to Advanced Systems had a blue symbol above it, and inside I saw a firing range where a young woman was blasting away with a laser pistol while two other scientists watched.

"She's been at it for over two hours. What is she even testing?"

"Nothing. At this point she's just doing it for fun."

I grinned at that, so Doctor Thompson and Doctor Filmore caught me smiling.

The shooter put down her pistol and came out, her lazy smile perking up when she saw me. "It's you! You must know a lot about weapons, living on the surface. Can I see..?" She turned greedy eyes on the weapon I was wearing on my back.

Which was Paladin Danse's personally upgraded laser rifle, the one he'd given me. I'd chosen it to bring along because it was easier to carry than my really long rifles, but now that I was talking instead of shooting—he'd've hit the _ceiling_ at the idea of an Institute scientist inspecting his rifle. "I think I'd better not, but maybe we can talk laser weapons later."

The woman looked only a little disappointed. "I'm Rosalind Orman. We've all been waiting for you. What can Advanced Systems do for you?"

"I'm looking for… Doctor Li?"

"She's through there. But she's not a big fan of..." Rosalind looked down at the boy, who was looking at the shooting range but keeping quiet. In a lower voice she added, "We worked on it—him—so it's strange to see him walking around."

Plenty of other synths were just walking around so the difference was… the boy wasn't doing a job? He was just hanging around. Like the real kid he wasn't. Or maybe it was just strange that he looked like a kid.

If I'd seen the child being made, or grown or whatever, it might have been harder for me to treat him like a normal kid. As things were it was almost too easy.

Doctor Li was a petite Asian woman who looked at me without any warmth. After the enthusiasm I'd been getting from everyone else this was jarring, but I learned over time that Doctor Li just doesn't like… the world, I suppose. It made a lot more sense when you got here, Scribe, and told me about her history.

"Ah, it's you. You're here then. Yes yes, I know who you are. We all do. While I'm sure Father is very happy that you're here, I do hope it doesn't interrupt your work."

"I'll try not to. What are you working on?"

"Advanced systems special projects. Obviously you've seen the boy. Synth. We've been hard at work on him for quite a while. Here, before I forget, let me see that Pip-boy of yours. I've been told to install a courser chip in it. Father's orders. You're to be given full access with the ability to relay to the Institute at will."

She was clearly not pleased. I handed over my Pip-boy and watched her open the back and slot in a single chip much smaller than the bulb we found in the courser's head. "So I can just come and go anytime?"

"Yes. It's interfaced with the map function, should be easy enough to use. Some places have relay terminals built in. Otherwise the satellite scans for a spot safely away from structures and other life forms. It shouldn't drop you right on a mirelurk but accidents happen. You can't bring along anything much larger than yourself and your clothes, for security. Also for security, the relay will only work if the Pip-boy is on _your_ arm detecting _your_ unique vital signs. You can't loan it to your friends."

"Understood." I had one other question. "Will you be tracking where I come from?"

"No. This is only the relay chip, no tracker. If nothing else, it should demonstrate to you the trust Father has placed in you. Now if there's nothing else, I'd like to get back to my work."

If she'd been more friendly I probably wouldn't have believed it.

Now that I had my way home, I collected the boy from where he was watching Rosalind blast the wall some more and we went on to the next division.


	50. Robotics

Begin Recording

Robotics

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"Robotics is where they make synths. Look at these, they were the first synths!"

The first synths stood under glass domes on either side of the archway into Robotics. Outside, Doctor Thompson was giving a briefing to three skeletal gen-one synths about conserving power, and about patching their navigation systems so they won't walk into walls. The boy made a very smug face, as a synth who was smart enough not to walk into walls ever.

Inside was… my jaw dropped. This huge white machine, mostly arms coming down from the ceiling, was building synths. I stood around gaping while completely automated arms assembled the synth's skeleton on a round frame that was moved to another station to have muscle and organs added. Don't ask _how_; these needle arms moved and the tissue just appeared. At another station needles connected to the synth's spine and brain and did… something. Programming its brain maybe. Then the whole frame was dipped into a round pool of bubbling red gel in the center of the room and the synth stood up out of the gel and walked to a door labeled 'Processing.' I was told that was where the rest of the programming happened, beyond just making the synth able to stand up and walk.

I watched two synths created, a man and a woman. The scientists kept at their work, giving me sidelong amused glances but letting me gawk as long as I wanted. The boy grinned, amused at how stunned I was.

And I was stunned. I've described it briefly, but everything moved so smoothly without people having to do anything. To watch it happen, it isn't just high tech. It's magical.

Doctor Alan Ben greeted me with an apology for "any trouble our synths may have caused you." and a warm welcome. He also smiled and greeted the boy, teasing him about sneaking in to watch the machines. I got the impression that the boy wasn't made here, because he didn't react to seeing the process. It is like magic, but also… seeing flesh appear in layers like that is disconcerting and then they come out of the pool stark naked and all that skin looked waxy and not quite the right colors. None of the scientists reacted at all to the nudity. After seeing their bones I can understand why nobody reacts to the flesh, but it was strange to my prewar self.

I read a terminal while the boy asked Doctor Ben about his family. I found a whole list of 'Departmental Notices' from the Director. The very first one was about my own arrival. It was very formal, "I feel both hope and trepidation when I think of how our first meeting will go." And there was the line, "Consider all sensitive information to be classified."

I wasn't surprised to read that, and it was kind of a relief to know these friendly people were hiding things from me. Another entry was about the boy, talking about correcting faults and testing upgrades. He'd been created before I emerged from the vault, and it looked like it had taken a while and a lot of updates. I wasn't sure if that was creepy or not.

I'd seen Sturges fine tuning a generator for days, and Danse fiddling with bits of his power armor to make it as close to perfect as he could. That was a kind of love, but not love for a child. But Doctor Binet was giving the boy a positively parental lecture about playing with electronics in class.

When they reached a break in conversation I asked, "Doctor Binet? What are those two synths going to be used for?"

"B-1 94 is replacing a surface operation operative, he'll be leading teams of gen-two synths in gathering resources in nondangerous environments. K4-12 will be a laborer here in the Institute."

"When a synth replaces a person on the surface… who decides when to do that?"

Doctor Binet immediately looked uncomfortable. This was probably 'sensitive information.' "Well the scientist who originated the project presents a request to their division head, and the Director reviews the proposal and gives final approval."

My control trembled for a moment. Shaun knew. I'd been trying to convince myself that maybe somehow he was innocent of the people the Institute had killed. Now I had to convince myself maybe he thought he had a good reason. _I'd_ killed a lot of people, to protect other people. It must be the same here. All right. Ask something else.

"Do you ever make copies of yourselves?"

"No!" Doctor Binet appeared shocked. "Of course not. Why would we do that?"

It was the first thing I thought of but I can't think of an actual good reason to do it. "To see what it would be like to meet yourself? Or maybe to leave your knowledge behind when you're gone."

"We do not do that. One of the central tenets of the gen-three program is that the uniqueness of each individual must be maintained."

"So any time someone on the surface is replaced with a synth..?"

Doctor Binet's face settled into lines of something like guilt but he said, "The Institute has very few gen-three agents on the surface. Far fewer than you probably think. Whenever possible the originals are chosen from people without much time ahead of them or who are already dead of unrelated causes. The window of time in which we can pull memories from a dead brain is slim but it is possible if the body is relayed down just after death. Every test subject is planned for to provide the most experimental data possible. We are not wasting lives lightly! But… yes."

There was so much more I wanted to ask, and to tell Doctor Binet about the effects his work has had on the surface dwellers. He sounded like he'd listen, but I decided not to push it any more on my first visit. "I'm interested to know more, but I need to move on. It must be getting on to dinner time.'

Doctor Binet is a good man, he respects synths' dignity as much as anyone in the Institute. But he was lying to me. Telling me how he wished things were and hoped they would be soon instead of how they were. Lying to himself a little, I think.

The last division I needed to visit was the synth retention bureau. Doctor Binet pointed me in the right direction and I asked, "Why are they a bureau when everybody else is just a division?"

The boy shrugged.

Doctor Binet said, "If I had lots of coursers I could call my division anything I wanted to! Joke. Not sure why the previous division head chose the name. It's the newest division of course. Before the synthetic organics we'd only lose a synth here of there to raiders or monsters. Now they run off on their own."

"Why not just let them go?" I kept my voice as innocent as possible.

Doctor Binet sounded honestly regretful, "Because they're malfunctioning. A machine with all the mental and physical powers of a person, malfunctioning. When human minds malfunction the human is locked in an asylum for everyone's safety, but synths can be reset and reprogrammed. It's safer for the Institute and the Commonwealth."

I nodded. Desdemona would have hated every word of that. "So coursers bring them back."

"I am uncomfortable with the number of coursers that have been requested by the SRB. And I'm just uncomfortable with coursers."

The boy admitted, 'I'm not afraid of outsiders but I am afraid of coursers. A little."

"You and me both, kid."

The boy's dark eyes went wide. "But you killed a courser and pulled off its head. Alice heard about it from her parents."

"I had some help. If it had been just me I would've got flattened. I'm not looking forward to seeing where coursers come from, but I have to. But you don't, why don't you go have dinner instead."

"You come with me young Shaun. Your new friend can handle herself."

The boy didn't argue, so either he really was scared of the coursers or he was getting bored with me. So I said, "See you later." and went to meet the last division.


	51. SRB

Begin Recording

SRB

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I'd left the Synth Retention Bureau for last because after everything I'd seen with the Railroad I wasn't sure how polite I could be to the people who hunted down terrified synths. I haven't told you all the stories, Scribe, but as a Railroad agent I'd met several synths, heard their stories, and helped protect them from reclamation parties of gen-two synths. None of them had rated a courser, thank goodness. But they were so afraid of being dragged back to the Institute to have their minds rewritten. Some synths do want the implanted human memories scrubbed out of their head but others feel that their memories of their time on the surface are the only real things they have.

There are so many horrible things that happen to people in the wasteland, we should at least have the right to our own minds.

This was the only division with an armed synth guarding the entrance, and the first thing I heard inside was Justin Ayo threatening to 'knock some heads in robotics' and maybe bring some coursers to back up the threat. None of which made me feel any better.

Nobody rushed to greet me so I went for the most interesting thing in sight: a bank of screens on a wall and a blue-glowing table. The table was a map and I leaned over it, fascinated. It was in shades of blue and white but detailed like I've never seen. All the roads were shone, and the ruins and even the boats sunken off the coast. We'd been trying to make one using Piper's piecemeal map, prewar maps, and me going out to mark locations with my Pip-boy's mapping function, and here was the perfect map finished in front of me. I actually looked for a plug on the table, but there was nothing the Pip-boy could use to download data.

When I finally tore myself away I looked at the screens on the wall. Again blue and white, not like normal terminal screens. I saw unsteady images of ruins, wobbly enough that it was hard to tell where they were. A crumbling skyscraper. A building with raider platforms built up beside it. A bit of empty wilderness. The Diamond City market! It was a strange angle but I could see part of the Power Noodles roof and all the electrical wiring strung across the sky with birds sitting on it. The Institute really was watching Diamond City.

They were watching Sanctuary too. That feed was clearer, clear enough that I could see people sitting at one of the picnic tables. Some of them wore recognizable hats—Piper, Preston and Mama Murphy. The ones without hats certainly could be Sturges and the Longs, and from the way Piper was hunched over her notebook I could guess she was writing an article about Quincy.

And the Institute was watching. How? I'd climbed all over those roofs fixing shingles; I'd've seen a camera.

Wondering how it was done was easier than wondering how long my son had been watching. We'd been attacked, several times. I'd been hauled home sick after the fight with Kellogg. The water purifier had broken once and only Doc Jenna had saved us all from puking our way to serious dehydration. There had been times when our lives, my life, was in danger and if Shaun was watching he hadn't done anything to help.

Since it was dinnertime and the division was mostly empty I got on the nearest terminal to see if I could find out more about how we were being watched, but I found other things instead.

Director Ayo's departmental notices were not encouraging. He also had a post about concealing 'sensitive information' from me, and one about concealing investigation into the missing synths from the rest of the Institute, and one about how everyone was supposed to be conserving power but the bureau members should take what they needed. Not bad things, necessarily, but not dripping with honesty and forthrightness.

Oh, and I found proof that Mayor McDonough really is a synth. Piper was right the whole time. And the SRB was considering just shutting him off because of the suspicion raised by Piper's article. McDonough was a conscious Institute agent, a copy of the real McDonough but he knew he was a synth. And apparently the Institute had some way to destroy his synth chip which would wipe out his mind and send his body into a quick decline. The way the post spoke of the guy—McDonough is political slime but nobody deserves to have his death coldly planned by the people he'd served for years.

There was a list of informants who'd reported runaway synths in exchange for caps. One of them was Carla. I felt very betrayed for a moment, then reason returned. Institute agents wouldn't say they were Institute agents; there was no way Carla knew who she was reporting to.

I noted the rest of the names in my Pip-boy. There was only one other I knew, another trader named Cricket. The number of chems Cricket uses, I could almost believe she'd report to the Institute to afford her next fix. One more thing for me to figure out once I got back to the surface.

The room also had a set of stairs down, and below I found a half dozen large glass tubes that I might not have realized were cells except that the room also held the Institute's synth programming machine.

It looks like a torture device. A band holds the synth by the neck while large needles pierce the spine and brainstem to connect to the synth chips. This thing is used to give the synth everything it knows, from the base data packet, things like how to walk and talk, to skills or adjusting the synth's programming. It can also wipe the mind completely. So not necessarily a torture device, but it can be one.

After seeing that I went to find Director Ayo and try to ask him questions without getting angry. He hadn't approached me but I recognized the division head by his outfit. An unattractive man, or maybe I just thought so because I'd heard him yelling before. He didn't look happy to see me.

"So. Here you are. Justin Ayo, acting director of the Synth Retention Bureau. I'll be up front with you, we're going to be keeping a close eye on you for the near future. Despite your relationship to Father, you're a bit of an unknown quantity. I'm sure you understand. There won't be any issues will there?"

"Don't think so." I said with the smile I used to give to co-workers who grumbled about the woman in their ranks.

"Good to hear. Now, Father has asked that I provide you with a brief overview of the Synth Retention Bureau. Our primary responsibility is the recovery of escaped synths that are hiding among the human population on the surface."

"Why would synths want to escape?" I asked with great innocence.

"Synths do not _want_! They might look like human beings, but they're machines. As to why they're escaping, that's currently under investigation. It isn't helped by the other divisions' habit of abandoning their half-programmed projects on the surface without documentation."

I opened my mouth to ask if he's asked the synths why, or maybe say something pointed about how _I_ knew why synths wanted to escape because I _had_ asked some of them, but he went on without giving me a chance. Which was definitely for the best.

Ayo continued, "Our main instrument is the courser, a third generation synth designed to operate on the surface. Coursers hunt down and reclaim synths that have escaped the Institute. They are highly self sufficient, trained in combat, infiltration and tracking. In a word, coursers are relentless. But you know all this since you've encountered one already. In fact, I'd very much like to know how you defeated it."

"About thirty Gunners softened it up for me."

He didn't like my answer. "Even so. Numbers of surface ruffians should not make a difference. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"How do you 'reclaim synths? That machine down there..."

"When a courser has located a rogue synth it uses that synth's recall code to render it inert. We then begin the delicate process of restoring the neural pathways to their original configuration. Yes, using that machine to repair the other machine. In those cases where the procedure is successful the synth returns to duty with no memory of its time on the surface. All too often we're unable to repair the damage and are forced to dispose of the unit entirely." he sighed.

"But if reclamation doesn't always work, why don't you just let them go if that's what they want?"

Ayo scowled. "Because, and I repeat, they are not humans who can want. They are Institute assets created to serve specific purposes. We created them to carry out our plans to build a bright future for humanity."

Ayo hasn't got Father's charisma but I heard in his voice the same belief. I nodded, "I see. I'll let you get back to work, Director Ayo."

I walked back into the central chamber and found the sun lamps in the ceiling had been turned off and a grid of tiny lights like stars shone down. Their light is the same wavelength as real moonlight and the white arches and balconies above me almost glowed. I sat down on a bench and watched the clear water flow under the glass floor under my feet. Around near the canteen people were talking and eating. I saw the boy sitting with Doctor Binet and a woman and young man, probably his wife and son.

It was so incredibly peaceful here, and I really needed to go home.


	52. Leaving

Begin Recording

Leaving

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I needed to go home, but it didn't feel right to go without seeing my son. My real son. I found him in his apartment with 'Director's Quarters' on the door that slid open automatically when I approached. Shaun was sitting at his desk reading a report—except he wasn't, he was staring at it but not really reading, with exactly the expression that Nate had when he was trying to study but too distracted by his own thoughts.

I opened my mouth and suddenly didn't know what to call him. Shaun? Father? Everyone called him Father. He signed his departmental notices 'Father.' Before I had to decide he noticed me and looked up. "How did you find the Institute?" He just sounded polite but there was something else, hope that I would approve of what he'd created.

So I answered honestly, "It's amazing. I hardly know what to think yet, I'm so blown away. This place is so peaceful and you have so much… so much I didn't think I'd see again after I woke up, and things I've never imagined."

My son smiled, a true, happy smile before he said, "I hear you spent the day with the child."

"I asked him to show me around. Shaun, why did you make him?"

"A pet project of mine, I confess. An interesting variation on the basic gen-three synth, starting one out in the form of a child and building a mind with more learning protocols and less programmed routine. He's a fascinating project. Some issues still to be solved of course, but we've made remarkable progress."

"But why does he look like you?"

"Just convenience. Modeling it after myself seemed only natural, what with Institute records of my genetics and physiology. Physically, it's a copy of myself at ten years old. Different memories of course, though he seems to have some of my mannerisms. I've tried to erase as little of his memory as possible over time to create an authentic personality. He'll be here every time you visit, you'll have an opportunity to interact with him further. But… I'll admit, I'm curious. As a parent looking for a child, looking for a younger version of me… what do you think? Do you think you could love him? Like you would a real boy?"

The first thought, the one I couldn't say, burned in my throat. _How could you set me up like this? __Am I an experiment_—no. So I answered the other thought. "He's a nice kid. But he isn't you."

"Yes, but I know I'm… not the son you were looking for. The synth is closer to what you were expecting. I wouldn't claim to know everything that you're feeling but I hoped that maybe the boy's presence could… could help, in some small way."

So he was trying to be kind. I made myself believe it. Maybe kindness just didn't come easily to a mind raised in the Institute. "...thank you. Shaun, I have to leave for a while. Let my friends know that I'm still alive."

My son nodded, not seeming surprised. "Come back when you can. I'd like to speak with you about the future of the Institute and how you might be able to help us realize that future."

I nodded and found the relay function in my Pip-boy. It was automatically set to return me to the place I'd left from, so I hit the button and—I couldn't help it—ducked down and closed my eyes.

My last sight of the Institute was my son with his hand raised in farewell, smiling in amusement at what I must've looked like all scrunched up ready to be teleported away.

A flash of burning light and then I was stumbling out of the molecular relay, squinting in the light of the setting sun. The sight of everybody eating dinner at the picnic tables, Dogmeat barking loudly and then Piper hollering, "Hey, she's back!"… it was as beautiful as anything I'd seen in the Institute.


	53. Homecoming, Again

Begin Recording

Homecoming, Again

Recording by Scribe Ellison

"You're back!" Piper dropped her plate and came running, then slowed down. "Is it really you?"

"I think so."

Dogmeat had no doubt, he rushed over with his whole back end wagging and gave my legs a good sniff. Everyone else was coming too, cheering and yelling questions, then also stopping at a safe distance just in case.

Deacon appeared with his zapping device, fiddling with the dials. I waited to remember some new, even more terrible memories, but the past days remained just as they had been. Still terrible, but not new. In fact I didn't feel anything.

"Congratulations, you're human. Group hug!"

Deacon didn't join in but Piper did hug me and Preston slapped me on the back and Doc Jenna kept trying to grab my arm and get a look at the Pip-boy. It was wonderful chaos.

After a minute I extricated myself and held up my hands. "All right! Yes! I'm back and I'm fine. We're not about to be attacked, as far as I know. Yes, I reached the Institute and I'll tell you everything—but I don't think I can tell everything to the whole settlement right now. Let me borrow Preston, Doc Jenna, Nick, Deacon since he'd come anyway and Piper to take shorthand. We've got to figure things out before I can answer all your questions."

That didn't do much, but our Tom called from behind his bar, "Toast to the General!" and that moved the mood from asking questions to cheering and I escaped.

I got into my own house, squirmed out of my armor pieces and gun harness, and threw myself back on the couch. Dogmeat immediately crammed himself up next to me.

Preston asked, "Are we all right? Are we really safe?"

"I think so. The Institute… isn't what we thought. They might not be our enemy.'

Deacon said, "I'm pretty sure they're _our_ enemy."

"I found—Doc Jenna, why are you trying to get my pip-boy?" I unbuckled it and gave it to her.

The doctor took it over to my terminal. "You've been wearing a diagnostic monitoring device for the past year and there's a full biometric scan from right before you left. I don't care how good the Institute is, I'll know if you're a synth."

I had my eyes closed in exhaustion and relief. 'Deacon's making an insulted face isn't he? All right, did you get the holotape?"

Deacon ignored the first sentence, "Yeah, Sturges is guarding it with his life but he was sure it has lots of blueprints and that list of synths that I really should be taking back to HQ."

"Tomorrow." I said as the reality of that mess came down on me. "You can absolutely have it but we—not this we, Deacon's friends we—have to talk about how to make sure these synths are safe without doing more damage. Mayor McDonough is a synth." I opened my eyes to look.

Piper's eyes got really wide and Nick chuckled, "That's almost too convenient."

Piper threw herself down on the couch next to me. "Really? You're sure?"

I nodded. "If people find out, the Institute will kill him. Just turn him off."

Piper went really still, pen poised above her notebook.

Nick said, "I think you'd better tell us everything."

"All right. The Institute is..."

And I talked all night. Most of it was me describing everything I'd seen, but some parts were me bawling into my dog's fur while Nick awkwardly patted my shoulder with his metal hand. Exactly what happened when is fuzzy.

At some point Nick said, "Sounds like they raised your boy to be one cold bastard. I'm sorry, Em."

At some other point Doc Jenna interrupted my description to exclaim that I'd been immunized against half a dozen things, including measles and could I get more vaccines for everyone else? I had to say I didn't know but I'd try. Then she said, "We can't go to war with the institute. They kill people, but a measles outbreak across the Commonwealth will kill more!"

Piper spent some time staring into space, still in shock that she'd been right. She can write shorthand without looking and probably without thinking about it. I've known court stenographers who could do that. She and Nick lived in Diamond City where paranoia about the Institute is so strong and now they were finding out it was all true. Piper occasionally said, 'oh my god." or she'd start asking something then wave it away.

I don't remember Deacon saying much, he stood looking out the window fully embracing the 'these sunglasses hide my expression' thing.

Preston just looked more and more worried as I spoke. I remember him saying something about, "I wish this had happened while General Becker was still alive, it feels very above my pay grade." and Nick saying, "Aren't the Minutemen here to save the Commonwealth?"

"A piece at a time yes, not all at once."

I shut that out as a question I wasn't ready to face and kept talking. It got very late and there came a point where I was talking with my eyes closed and making less sense and probably said, "And they have toothpaste!" four times.

Preston stood up and said, "I think that's enough for now, we're going to need our wits for what comes next. Go to bed everybody."

I grabbed my gun harness because it lives hung over the foot of my cot and stumbled my way to bed with Dogmeat clicking along behind me. Nobody else listened though; they immediately started talking about what they'd just learned.

I was too tired to be upset anymore, which was very nice. I found my son but I had to leave him behind to come home to a place where I could go to sleep in my own bed listening to the voices of people I trusted.


	54. The List

**Sorry about the delay dear readers. As we get closer to the end of this story I have to actually pay attention to what order the chapters go in!**

**So we wonder through the whole game just why the Institute replaces people with synths. And then we get to the Institute and… don't really find out. I mean, McDonough, that makes sense, Danse, that makes a lot more sense than him randomly being a synth and forgetting about it, but your nameless settlers? It seems like pure underpants gnome logic to me! (step 1:replace random settlers with synths. Step 2:? Step 3:Profit!) Is the Institute hoping to replace the entire surface population? Do they just enjoy causing terror? Do they even know they're causing terror? It's both annoying and delightful because now I get to decide which way to slant it in the story.**

Begin Recording

The List

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I woke up in the early afternoon, famished. When I'd washed up and come outside Dogmeat greeted me with his tail wagging. Nick was helping in the garden and I heard Jimmy say, "You're really bad at this."

"That's why I gave up farming to be a detective."

Our Tom had last night's baked bloatfly and tatos on ice for me, both foods that are better as leftovers. My prewar self took a long time to come around on eating bugs—it's a texture thing, even baked perfectly it's kind of jellyish and awful inside. Poor Tom was just about vibrating with questions as he handed over my food but my brain stuttered and I shook my head.

I was going to get the questions from everyone. What's the Institute like, why do they attack us, why do they replace people, what do they want, do they hate us?

And,

My sister disappeared, my brother started acting strangely, my friends rejected me because they thought _I'd_ changed, am I a synth, am I dangerous, how can I know, why did the Institute ruin my life?

I didn't know most of the answers. I could get them, maybe, but only if the scientists at the Institute didn't realize how deplorable I found some of the things they did. And in the meantime I had to figure out how to tell what I did know.

_The Institute is full of kind, friendly people who don't even think about how they're hurting all of you._ That was worse than being hated, I think.

Deacon sat down next to me and momentarily raised his sunglasses to show his eyes looked like he'd been up all night just like mine did. "How's the morning after treating you?"

I groaned as an answer. "I don't know what to do next."

"A whole lot of people are about to tell you what you should do next."

"Including you?"

"Of course!" Deacon smiled cheerfully, then sobered. "That tape you sent back had a list on it. There are some names you should see."

The tasty leftovers turned to cement in my stomach. "People I know?"

"A few."

"Let's see it." I took a last bite and handed the plate back to Tom to give to whoever was on dish washing duty. Probably I'd missed my turn. I was careful to do all the same chores as everyone else no matter how much General-ing I had to do. "Who's seen what's on that holotape?"

"Sturges, your friend Garvey, and me. Nobody's read the whole thing. Most of it is science, some of it's encrypted, and a lot is things like lists of how much toilet paper each division uses per month. Spy books say any knowledge of the enemy is useful but I'm not sure about that."

"I suppose it could tell us how many people really live in the Institute." I offered, "Hey, mind if bring Nick in to read this list? He knows a lot of people in Diamond City, Goodneighbor and Bunker Hill. If we're going to be—something—some of their citizens it might be good to have him on board to do diplomacy."

"Not sure what the boss would think, but I'm for it."

I have a sudden curiosity, "Did the Railroad ever reach out to Nick? He is a synth."

"Valentine's kind of a unique case, everybody knows he's a synth but nobody's breaking out the pitchforks and torches. I guess Valentine's got the life we'd like all synths to have… but I've only ever heard good things about him so sure, invite him."

So I waved and called, "Nick!" and he happily handed off the hoe and came over.

"How are you holding up?"

I managed a wry smile, "Thinking about all the terrible things we still have to handle is taking my mind off all the terrible things that already happened."

I'd had to get out of my house because there was a danger I'd stand at the door to Shaun's room and look at the clothes I'd bought him neatly folded on the bed and never move again.

Sturges was hard at work, copying a diagram from his terminal onto a piece of paper. "This is a gold mine! I think I can fix up a generator to power the whole settlement! One generator! There's a lot of what looks like chemistry on here too, I can't make heads or tails of it but I'm sure someone could. I've made copies of the original holotape, with the same data compression. Not many terminals will be able to access the data so we can send these to the other settlements for safekeeping in case something happens to ours. And I have an uncompressed tape of just the lists of names for you, and one of all the engineering in case you need a Christmas present for your friends from the Brotherhood of Steel."

Sturges was really happy.

And for a moment while I listened to him ramble and imagined how much fun it would be to give Danse a tape full of Institute tech and see his face, I realized that 'fun' was a thing that might still be possible in the world.

I didn't get to give it to him. Instead I used it for leverage to get everyone to talk peace.

We left Sturges to his fun and took the tape back to my house to read it, and it was a good thing I'd just seen something good because we were about to learn more terrible things. I ended up sitting at my terminal with Nick and Deacon hovering over my shoulders like anyone trying to read someone else's terminal.

And the Institute's files, in Deacon's words, dropped their pants and showed us everything they had.

The files went back fifty-nine years, and actually started with _Unconscious surface agent, human interaction test. Failed. Unit destroyed on site._ My eyebrows went up. "Is that the Broken Mask Incident?"

"The date matches. Not many words to describe a day that's still hanging over Diamond City."

"So 'unconscious agent' means he didn't know he was a synth, I guess. He was just programmed to talk to people. Not shoot everyone, at least according to this entry."

Nick said, "Nice to know, even if it doesn't really matter now. The time to tell everybody that was right after it happened."

Each entry was a separate file and each entry was about the same: date, synth designation, project name, authorizing division head, and project notes. That last section had all the interesting information and some of the entries had quite long notes. There were 'conscious agents' and 'unconscious agents,' 'escaped' and 'discarded.' some of the entries included the synth's last known location or mentioned, 'Railroad involvement suspected.' Some had the synth's human name, and some didn't.

I looked down the list of synth designations, none of which meant anything to me. "Nick, do you remember what that synth Jenny said her number was?"

"K1-98."

"There it is. Institute agent, assistant to Bioscience division. Escaped to the surface…"

"Escaped how?" Deacon asked from behind me.

And my brain put it all together. "She used the molecular relay. Which isn't guarded. Because Director Ayo is trying to hide how many synths are going missing. She can't get back without a courser chip, but she could just leave. I wonder how many do."

I opened a few files at random and found that synths teleporting themselves out of the Institute was rare. Most of the synths on the surface had been sent there to do specific jobs, or they'd had jobs and walked away from them, or they'd just been tossed out. I found Percy's file: "Observation of the Minutemen canceled as they are no longer a power in the Commonwealth. Asset discarded."

There were other discarded assets too, from different projects. One was a robotics project by the division head before Doctor Binet, he'd programmed several synths with brain scans from before the war and turned them loose. Doctor Binet added that his predecessor hadn't left behind any notes suggesting what the goal of the project had been. So those synths had just been forgotten. They were probably still around with no idea of what they were.

Then there were the 'unconscious agents' put into settlements to spy or gather resources of some kind. They'd obey their programming without realizing they were doing so, just forgetting what they'd done. Some of these entries included human names and locations, some of them familiar.

I found a name I knew, a woman who lived at the lighthouse was a synth. Lily's orders were to collect prewar books, which Lily had done anyway. I knew her more than some of the settlers since we both liked to read.

Later on we did restore her memories, and her story was… not so bad. It turned out the real Lily was sick—Doc Weathers diagnosed her but didn't tell her. He told the Institute. The real Lily was taken to be a test subject for medical treatments while the synth Lily would return to the surface and live, except now she was programmed to leave some of her books at a drop point every now and then, and not remember that she'd done it. She just noticed that her more sciency books got lost every now and then. We woke her up, she went berserk for about a minute and then just cried a lot, poor woman, and now she's doing all right. What Doctor Binet told me, about replacing people who were going to die anyway, it was partly true. Partly.

Some of the replacements had it a lot worse. Waking someone up—the poor synth just knows they got tied up by strangers and then suddenly their head is full of awful stuff that wasn't there before and for a lot of them the trauma of it sets off the destructive impulse in the synth chip and then they really lose it. It's an ugly thing. I was there for every one from the settlements. Their friends and family couldn't be there but their General could be.

And there was someone who… who I cared about, who will never look at me the same way again because now he knows he's a synth, because of me.

But that was what happened later, over the next few years. The Railroad did it all, really. Finding the synths, making sure they really needed to be woken up. Runaways like Jenny aren't going to freak out, they know it all already. But an unconscious agent whose first memory is seeing his original grab a gun off a courser and end himself because he knows the alternative is being an FEV experiment… no, I'm not going to tell you who that was. If he'd started to suspect he was a synth he would've been terribly dangerous.

That was later. I didn't even see that file until later. But the next thing we had to do that day was figure out what the hell to do about McDonough. A still-sleepy Piper turned up for the discussion and I read McDonough's file out loud. I don't remember the details—it was a long file, McDonough was replaced more than ten years ago. He knew he was a synth, but he also had the real McDonough's memories in his head along with an implant that could just shut him down if his human ethics started taking over. So there he was, he had to be mayor and he had to follow orders from the Institute. If he didn't follow orders the Institute would kill him. And if the people of Diamond City ever found out, _they'd_ kill him.

That explained a lot.

"He's been following their orders the whole time! He should be outed in the press!"

Nick was sitting with his chin in his hand, thinking. "You already outed him in the press." he said finally, apologetically.

Piper began, "Valentine..." and then started to see the problem too. She reached up to squash her hat down onto her own head, grumbling underneath it, "All right all right, 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf' I know. We don't even have proof do we? Not the kind anyone else could believe!"

"Even if we did have proof… I'd feel fine seeing McDonough removed from office but not so fine seeing him lynched. And who knows where it would go after that? Blood in the streets. I've—the first Nick—has seen that."

Without thinking I said, "There was a war protest in January that-" and I suddenly realized the _human_ Nick might have been there downtown while I watched the protest-turned-riot on television. I shuddered. Nick looked at me with the same spooked expression like he might have been trying to remember if he'd ever seen me before he was himself. Eager to move on from this feeling of someone walking over my grave I said, "I don't like the idea of the Institute being the power behind Diamond City but it might be best to leave McDonough alone for now. I'm working with the Institute. Maybe I can find a way to make the orders stop coming so McDonough could be mayor under his own power—or fall apart and resign, but without violence. Maybe without violence."

Piper really did not like that. "But the people of Diamond City are already in danger! Just because people aren't listening, does that make it right to just not tell them? How do we know the Institute won't just order him to poison the water or something?"

None of us had a good answer for her. Nick offered, "They haven't yet. Makes my skin crawl too, but we need a plan to get him out of Diamond City safely."

Piper's eyes narrowed and I could just see plans hatching in her mind.

"Piper..." I said.

"Fine..." she smiled. "I'm not a loose cannon, Blue. Really! Now that it's not just me and the paper against the world… I can work with people."

Nick said, "Good to know, Piper. I wish Diamond City had a little more standing for it than an old private eye and a plucky girl reporter, but I suppose we're better than nothing. We'll try to find evidence that can get McDonough out of office. Maybe we can even find something that won't out him to the Institute and get him killed. For how long though?"

I said, "I don't know. A while. We've got the Brotherhood looming over us, the Railroad about to start shaking things up and Shaun—the Institute has some kind of plan and I don't know what it is yet. This doesn't seem like the time to risk destabilizing Diamond City." I was trying to sound confidant but my voice trembled.

Then Deacon said, "Congratulations, the fate of the Commonwealth is in your hands." His voice was kind, he was just kidding, but I sobbed and Piper gave him a look that could peel paint. When I got hold of myself again Deacon offered, "At least you know people who are used to dealing with synths. As long as you can handle the humans."

That was the day after I came back from the Institute and the second time someone mentioned us—me—being responsible for the Commonwealth.


	55. Going Back

Begin Recording

Going Back

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I wanted to go back immediately. Emotional thing, not just 'I want to talk to Shaun again' but also, 'I want to see if it really was like I remember.' Standing out here under a spitting rainstorm and dust and stink where somebody's burned the radroach that was supposed to be dinner, it makes you doubt that a place like the Institute is real. And I wanted to talk to my son again. And I needed to, to protect my friends. Only now 'my friends' had somehow become 'my people' and just wanting folks like the Abernathys and the Warwicks to be able to farm in peace so we'd all have enough to eat had become something big and scary and out of control.

And I had to take Doctor Virgil his serum because he was also in danger of getting big and scary and out of control. I slogged across the Glowing Sea for what I profoundly hoped would be the last time, back in my radiation-proof power armor equipped with a new batch of stealth boys so the inhabitants of that irradiated hell didn't see me. Again my map said I crossed the same territory, the shortest route between Somerville Place and Virgil's cave, but again the scenery was different. Or maybe those orange puddles had just now appeared. They didn't look like rain, or water at all, more like some horrible oil that came up from the earth rather than falling to it. A couple of bloodbugs were dozing in the stuff. I thought they must be dead, and walked too close and they came after me, but I managed to grab them and crush them one at a time. Power armor saves the day!

Virgil I found standing staring into space like he'd forgotten himself in the middle of something, but he snapped to attention when he heard the can chimes. "Well! I'm glad to see the relay didn't completely vaporize you."

"Were… you expecting it to?" I asked as I struggled out of my suit.

"Not really, but I'm glad to be right. And what about the serum? Did you find the serum?"

I got the case with its glowing tag and held it out, "This it?"

"Yes! that's really it!" Jubilant, Virgil snatched it and opened the case, looking at the vials one at a time. "All right, let's see… retrovirus has matured nicely, density gradient is high..." he muttered as he went over to his chemistry bench and loaded the two vials into an injector.

"Is that really a cure for FEV?"

"Sadly no. This serum will only counteract the specific strain I infected myself with. Once I have my own mind back I may be able to use the principles to design a broader antidote, but that will be the work of years. All right, here we go." And he pushed the injector against his wrist, wincing at the sting. "And now, we wait."

"How long until you know?"

"Hard to say. Nothing like this has ever been tried before. Days, maybe a few weeks. You don't need to stay. I have prepared for any medical changes that may occur as my body reverts. And you've kept your end of the bargain. Thank you."

"Virgil, I have a chip for the molecular relay. I could teleport there, leave you my radiation suit. Doctor Li told me the chip couldn't be tracked but she could have lied."

"No. The risk is too great. If I ever need to rejoin the world I can ask the Children of Atom for help. Mother Isolde said she could transport me safely out of here. Right now I am looking forward to having my own fingers back so I can resume my experiments."

So I left, not at all sure I was doing right. I thought Virgil should have come back with me as a super mutant and reverted in a safer place, but he was sure that he'd be tracked by the Institute anywhere he went.

It did work, by the way. It was a few years later that I went back, I was there to ask Mother Isolde if her followers would like to haul away all the radioactive barrels we find around, but I went to the cave to check on Virgil as well. I'd expected to find him dead, but he was fine. Fully human, not at all what I'd expected his human form to look like, and happy to talk my ear off about his work towards a cure for FEV. He said he'd pack up and move to Diamond City one of these days but we're still waiting for him to appear.

But I didn't know that then, so my mood was dark when I finally trudged back into clear air. The day was dusty and hot. I got out of my suit and just left it, took the fusion core with me. And there it rots, too radioactive to salvage.

And then I gave in to temptation and relayed myself to the Institute. Where everything was cool and clean and safe. Except for me, because the first person I saw as I stepped out of the elevator was one of the kids and she informed me that I stank. I headed for my rooms to wash up and shove my vault suit into the laundry machine.

This was not the only time kids in the Institute said I smell, and while that time I definitely did I've also gotten it when I haven't just been sweating all day in sealed power armor.

As I emerged dressed again and wondering what to do next my son spoke from a speaker in the wall. "Welcome back. Would you like to join me for dinner? And no, there are no cameras, I merely noticed that the doors had been activated."

I wasn't sure there was a microphone but I said, "I'd be happy to come for dinner. I'll be right up."

I guessed the Director ate in his quarters not in the canteen with everyone else, and I was right. When I got up there my son greeted me with a smile and a table set for two with a nice dinner of vegetables and a few dishes that had to be nutrient paste prepared in ways that mimicked meat. The food was the first topic of conversation, how the Institute grew its plants, how nutrients were refined from soil gathered from outside and reclaimed from leftovers via composting. Nothing in the Institute was wasted, Father was quite proud of that. I talked about farming and how much work it was and then wandered into talking about prewar food and that wandered into reminiscing about the world my son had been born into and the life he would have had.

"Nate had a baseball bat and glove for you, before you were even a year old… did you have a family here? When you were a child? Everyone calls you Father."

"I was raised by the whole Institute, family with everyone. But practically, by a series of Miss Nanny robots. They started calling me Father instead of Shaun. I don't think I even knew my full name until I became Director and found my own file. That's how I learned about my parents as well, from a Vault-tec document my predecessor saved. Nathan Roland Mason, soldier, decorated. Emily Rhonda Mason, attorney, promoted quite young."

I laughed. "I was the most junior partner and I think I only got in because the rest of the partners were old white men. With me they got young, female, white enough without being too white but definitely not Chinese. Papa's family is from Chile and Mama's from the Philippines, both so far back that we're just American. But skin color was important before the war. That's one of the few things that actually got better when the world blew up."

"How strange. I have read about prewar society..."

So we had dinner, talking about the old world and about building civilizations. Shaun was so passionate. He never raised his voice, I'm not sure he wanted me to know how proud he was of what he'd built, but since I felt the same way about Sanctuary…

"I have a favor to ask of you. You have had contact with the raider gangs on the surface. You... shoot them."

He wasn't wrong. "Only the ones who won't stop trying to shoot us. Why do you mention raiders?"

"A rogue synth has taken over the raider gang at Libertalia. His memories have been erased and his identity altered. He believes he is a man named Gabriel. Under his leadership the raiders have taken many innocent lives. I plan to send a courser to reclaim the synth, but I'd like you to go with him and assist."

"Reclaim..?"

"Use the synth's recall code. The courser will return it here."

"I see..." My mind fumbled for what to say next. "How did the synth lose its memory?"

"Railroad interference, probably. They have technology to alter a synth's programming, in a misguided attempt to foster 'free will.'"

"Don't synths have free will? They're intelligent and they're certainly self-aware."

"They approximate human behavior, yes, but they are still our creations. As this 'Gabriel' demonstrates, the synth mind without proper supervision can become very dangerous."

"I see." I said again, though it was exactly the opposite of what I was thinking. I didn't see. I wanted to see what my son saw, because maybe he was right but I kept seeing Nick and Glory and the boy and I couldn't see them as just mimicking humanity. But this synth had become a raider. "Can the courser hold off for a day?"

"I suppose. There is a relay location on Nahant Wharf. The courser will wait there for you. Don't take too long though. Any delay could cost lives."

He was right. "I'll deal with that synth. I'd better go now. Thank you for dinner."

"Stay safe."

I grabbed the rest of my gear and used the relay to send myself to a point not far from Railroad headquarters. Already annoyed that I couldn't teleport right there in case I was being tracked after all. The Brotherhood may have a point about some technology being too much, because being able to get anywhere without walking is incredibly tempting. And then we all realized that the molecular relay meant I could show up to protect the people at a literal minute's notice and soon I hated the thing.

I got down the steps into headquarters and Deacon waved hello, "How are ya? I barely got back, please don't say you need me somewhere else."

"Information is what I need. On a synth named Gabriel, designation..." I fumbled in my Pip-boy for the note.

But there was Desdemona stepping in front of me, her eyes hard as flint. "Should I believe what you told Deacon? Because I have a hard time believing it."

Sudden exhaustion dragged on my shoulders. Des must have seen it because her next words were softer. "Really? Your son?"

"Yes. He sent me to bring back a synth who's… leading a raider gang? Do you know anything about him? I'm supposed to meet a courser and take him into custody."

Deacon came back with an actual paper file, written in code. "B5-92, remember him? He wanted all his memories erased, down to the fact that he's a synth. Doctor Amari didn't approve of letting the guy wander around the Commonwealth not even knowing he had to watch out, but he insisted. He must've gone through some things, but which of us hasn't?" Folder down Deacon added, "Everyone knows the Libertalia gang. All the raider top ten hits: murder, torture, wiping out whole caravans..."

I looked at my friends. "I know what to do with runaway synths and I know what to do with raider bosses. What do you think I should do with him?"

I was hoping the Railroad would swoop in and fix the problem but Desdemona just said, "Don't let them take him back."

But Deacon said, "No, that's exactly what she _should_ do!"

"Deacon!"

"Think about it, boss. We sacrifice one synth and gain the trust of the Institute for one of our agents."

"_She_ gains the trust of her _son_. Then how do we trust her?"

It hurt. "You can trust..." I had to stop to bring the words together. "You can trust me to protect all of you because you're my friends, and work towards freeing synths because that's something I believe in. But you can't trust me to obey every order because I have other things to protect too."

Desdemona's face was still set and suspicious.

"Give her a break boss, her whole world fell apart and she's still standing."

A sigh, and Desdemona gave in. "Fine. I don't like it, but Deacon has a point. As a raider, B5 wouldn't have much chance anyway, so throw him to the coursers. But use his sacrifice well because you won't get another one. And I hope to god we really can trust your loyalties. A lot of lives are riding on you."

"I know. I don't like it. I need your help, I need so much help I can't even imagine it. But I can probably manage this synth, and since there's going to be a courser there with me you all need to stay far away."

"You'd rather have a courser along? I'm wounded!"

I laughed. "Only because I don't care what happens to a courser, but I like having you around, Deacon. In limited doses. I'm off. I'll leave a record in a dead drop to let you know how it went."

Then I had to hike far enough away to feel safe using the relay to get home to sleep and then gear up for action in the morning. I sent myself to Nahant Wharf and met the courser, X6-88. Who was… less creepy than the other courser, but not by much. He was dressed like every courser. Long coat and mirrored sunglasses and ready with an Institute laser rifle. He didn't smile or say hello, just, "I've already neutralized the perimeter guard. Just give the word and we can start the assault on the main flotilla."

"Let's go."

"Right behind you, Ma'am." But most of the way up he was in front of me, and I wasn't about to argue. Libertalia is this multilayered raider city built on boats, some still floating and some beached or leaning up halfway in the seabed. You have to walk on wobbly platforms while raiders shoot at you from catwalks. No fun at all. X6 was a lot more surefooted than I was. Coursers have better balance than humans.

Usually I let raiders escape if they run. I don't like killing, and I try to hope that a surviving raider might manage to kick the chems and turn things around. It does happen, occasionally. X6 was not interested in mercy. We blasted our way through the raiders, making our way towards the central tower of Libertalia, a platform built onto the back of a boat stuck nose-first into the seabed. It was the obvious place for the boss to live, at the center of the defenses and up above the slime and stink of the water. Libertalia was on the bay, but it was easy to tell that the floating camp disposed of its waste over the side.

The platform was up a ladder with a trapdoor at the top, and at the bottom X6 stopped me to tell me the synth's recall code, a string of numbers and words. I let my Pip-boy record it so I could just read it off. The codes are pretty long. X6 said the code would "reset his cognitive processes and make him docile." I wished we were somewhere else so I could ask what it was like for the synth.

When he was sure I was ready with the code X6 shoved the trapdoor open and climbed up to the top of Libertalia.

The synth was waiting. He was a big man, muscular with long wild hair. No visible weapons. He'd decorated his deck with some hanging corpses. It stank more up here than down below.

"Well done, very impressive. Just like me, you made it to the top. So tell me, is the Institute so hard up for resources that it's stealing plunder from honest, hard working Commonwealth gangs?"

"How did you know we're..?"

"Please. _That_ isn't human, but you might be." Gabriel looked me up and down in a way that would've made more sense if I'd been wearing something more stylish than pieces of armor strapped on over a vault suit.

There was no point in talking. "Sorry. You had a choice, and you made it. B5-92, initialize factory reset." I said the code and the synth slumped forward and went still, asleep on his feet. It was creepy, and the few raiders who were still alive freaked out and came running to avenge their downed leader. X6 shot them.

When silence fell X6-88 nodded, put away his weapon and said, "This is X6-88, ready to relay with reclaimed synth B5-92. Please follow at your leisure, Ma'am."

The two synths vanished in a double burst of lightning that was almost lost in the sunlight. I took a few minutes to look in Gabriel's lair, grabbing ammo and caps and anything that looked like it could have been a memento. Those hanging bodies were someone's relatives, but I didn't have the stomach to cut them down or any idea what I'd do with them if I did.

The best thing would have been to burn Libertalia down to the waterline, but enough of the boats were steel that it would have taken hauling in a lot of fuel, more work than I could do alone. As it was the place was just waiting for another raider gang to move in—and one did and I had to go back to clear it out again, but that was when I found Kaynah so it was worth it.

Back at the Institute I found my son in his quarters, working at a terminal that looked out over the heart of the Institute and the elevator. He must've watched me arrive from here. He stood up and smiled when I came in.

"Welcome back. I'm glad to see you return safely. I know the task was difficult but I needed you to see firsthand how dangerous a rogue synth can be."

"Gabriel and his men were sick freaks, hanging their victims up like trophies. I'm just glad it's over."

Father winced at my description, and nodded. "While we can do nothing for Gabriel's victims now, we can at least take comfort in knowing that the threat has been removed. But enough about that. The task is done and you've returned our synth safely to us. Well done. As a concrete sign of my gratitude I've requisitioned a generous supply of arms and equipment for you, in case you ever need to go on a similar mission again. Why don't you go look."

So I headed to my quarters where it was like Christmas, some armor pieces made of the weird white polymer that synths wore for armor. Ultralight and as solid as metal, with the added bonus that it dampened the effects of energy weapons. There were a couple of really nice energy weapons too, though I was pleased to find none of them had the particular upgrades on the weapon I was wearing across my back. Danse would be glad to hear it, if I could ever tell him without worrying that the Brotherhood would kidnap and interrogate me.

The loot was nice but I felt like I should see where I'd put Gabriel.

The boy found me on the way to the SRB. "You came back! Are you going to live here?"

"No, I've got too much to do on the surface. I just reclaimed a synth and I'm going to see what reprogramming looks like. It's probably not something you want to see."

"Maybe I do. Quentin said it looks really scary. He sneaked in." So he still followed me.

Nobody seemed to care that the kid was tagging along. Alana Secord thanked me for bringing the synth back. "He was a prototype for some of the courser programming so I'm not surprised he became violent. You want to see him? It's not much to look at, the process takes days but you can look if you want. Down there."

I saw about what I expected. Gabriel with his hair shaved and raider gear swapped for a hospital gown, in the reprogramming chair pierced with needles. He didn't seem to be awake but his eyes were half open and he twitched occasionally.

The boy hid behind me, but still looked.

It felt wrong. It felt like torture, like hanging prisoners on hooks—which Gabriel had done. Intellectually, it was fair and a bullet through the head was no better. But the feeling of wrongness remained.

The boy whispered, "Alice says they'll do that to me if I don't pass my tests. Then I'd forget everything I ever learned and everybody I know. I wouldn't even be me anymore."

"Father wouldn't let that happen to you. Neither would I, and I have lots of guns. Let's get out of here." It was after a minute that I realized I should ask if people threatened him with being reset. But I was already trying hard not to believe that my son was fine with terrorizing the Commonwealth and I cringed away from learning he was fine with terrorizing this child he'd created.


	56. Making Friends

**I was so tempted to save Lyons Pride in this story. This is the optimistic Fallout story where everybody gets the good ending after all… but I couldn't quite justify just declaring them alive because I wanted to. **

Begin Recording

Making Friends

Recording by Scribe Ellison

And then things started happening. But I probably should tell you more about the Brotherhood in the Commonwealth. I've gotten out of order, I visited the Prydwen well before I made it to the Institute. But sooner or later I have to talk about Maxson. Your leader. Who I don't get along with.

I had spent time with Recon Squad Gladius off and on, gotten to be good friends with Haylin and spent way too much time arguing Brotherhood philosophy with Danse. And of course I was hoping for an invitation to visit the airship because it was the most amazing thing I'd seen so far in this new world and I wanted it.

What? Of course I want the Prydwen. I'm not going to try to take it or anything, but I want it; it's wasted as a terror weapon. What would your Elder Lyons have done with a mobile fortress, probably mapped the entire east coast. Supply drops to recruit isolated settlements. Safe transport of refugees. Putting the fear of god into groups like the Gunners.

While waiting for the invitation, our adventure at ArcJet systems had left Danse's power armor totally fried. The operating system had survived but all the joints were locked up and every rubber seal had softened and reformed out of shape.

I did offer, "Come to Sanctuary, we've got Sturges and all his fabrication equipment." but Haylin wanted to stay at the police station to track the signals that turned out to be the molecular relay in operation. But Sturges was happy to make a set of rubber seals for T-60 power armor I was happy to deliver them in between all the other things I was doing. Then we'd sit around on the roof of the police station and work on the power armor and talk.

That's how I learned about what happened in the capital while I was still frozen—in a very different way than you describe it, Scribe! How Elder Lyons let the Brotherhood split and nearly led everyone to ruin trying to help mad scientists and ungrateful wastelanders. Even so, no one ever called Sara Lyons anything but 'the best of all of us.' I suppose since she's gone and can't have inconvenient opinions now.

I also learned a lot about the Brotherhood's beliefs, controlling technology and keeping it out of the hands of people who would misuse it. Honor and respect and the chain of command. The soldier thing was familiar because I knew soldiers, but my new friends seemed to have their hearts in it in a way that Nate's buddies never did. The 108th believed in keeping the red Chinese off American soil but they also had families and interests, hell, Nate had a comic book collection. The Brotherhood had the Brotherhood. The way they looked after each other though, that impressed me. I heard what had happened to the other members of Gladius, and how Danse and Rhys had risked everything trying to save them.

I had hope for some kind of alliance. I had a couple of proposals about trading protection for crops ready to offer to the right person when we visited the airship, but I was hoping for more. The Minutemen and the Brotherhood have enough in common that I was hoping we could work together. But to my great annoyance, Danse didn't have much respect for the Minutemen. He wasn't _wrong_, then, the Minutemen were thirty people in five settlements with homemade laser muskets but we were growing fast, and… ok, I just wished people I respected would respect my project, it made me feel like I was back in college trying to get teachers to respect my decision to apply to law school.

So I agreed to join up, hoping that once I had a Brotherhood title I could get to a place where I could talk about that alliance. And I was hoping I could graduate to being called Mason instead of Civilian, but the guys just switched to Soldier while Haylin started calling me Em.

Oh, and at some point I teased Haylin about the whole last-names-only thing and she said, "Well my first name is Bambi. 'Scribe Haylin' is an improvement." and I laughed some and asked if Bambi is even a real name. I suppose it is, some version of 'bambina' maybe, but nobody ever calls her anything but Haylin.

And of course I asked about the airship. I remembered a fuzzy conversation, Nick and Piper talking about how the airship had to be a weapon of war and who here was worth having a war with.

"We call our ship the Prydwen. I watched her built, saw her maiden voyage from Adams Air Force Base. She's loaded with enough troops and supplies to mount a major offensive. And if she's here that means Elder Maxson's here. And that means we're going to war."

Not what I wanted to hear. "Tell me about Elder Maxson, I know he's your leader...'

"Our commander, the commander of the east coast division of the Brotherhood of Steel. he's the model of what every Brotherhood soldier hopes to become. If we're going to war, I can promise you that he'll be leading the charge."

Their faces were so full of pride, even Haylin was smiling. I wanted to say that this scared me, that I was thinking of everyone I knew in the Commonwealth who could be hurt in a war. We didn't even know what weapons the Institute had to fight back. I couldn't think of a way to say that that wouldn't sound wrong to my friends.


	57. Flight

Begin Recording

Flight

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Then at last I arrived at the police station with Dogmeat and a pack full of techie toys for Haylin to find Danse testing out his repaired power armor. "Looks good. All the joints are moving well."

"At last!" Haylin sat back from oiling something and grinned, and because she was sitting on the ground she was on dog level and Dogmeat went over to say hello.

"You're here, good. Repairs complete and not a minute too soon. I've received orders to report to the Prydwen immediately and bring you along. I know you've been looking forward to seeing the ship up close and personal."

Now I was getting excited. "When are we going?"

"Whenever you're ready. There's a vertibird on the roof."

I shrugged off my backpack, "Haylin, I brought you some circuits and things. Take care of Dogmeat will you? Or send him home with Carla next time she comes past."

Haylin gave Dogmeat a rub around the ears. "Glad to have him. Have fun up there!"

Upstairs was a vertibird, the first one I'd ever seen up close. I took a minute to look at it, up at the wings and rotors. The pilot inside waved, "You the new recruit? Since you haven't got power armor you'll have to strap in. Put this on." And he tossed me a tangle of straps. I caught the thing and held it out, trying to make sense of it.

Danse rescued me, "This buckle goes in the front. You step in here and here—you'll probably have to take off most of your gear."

I did, I stowed my armor and gun harness in a locker on the vertibird and Danse helped me get the safety harness on. It was quite a process but I felt very secure with straps snug around my thighs and waist and over my shoulders. A line from my chest ended in a metal hook that clipped closed on a bar near the door of the vertibird. I also got a headset so we could communicate and I had to fit my helmet over it.

In his power armor Danse just had to sit down and clip on straps designed to attach to power armor.

My headset crackled and he said, "Your seat's there."

It was barely a seat, not even solid metal, hanging off the side of the vertibird. With a minigun mounted in front of it. I sat down, tucked my safety strap behind me, and grabbed the obvious handholds. "Ready when you are."

The rotors slowly buzzed up to speed, and the roof dropped out from under us.

And it was wonderful.

I've flown in airplanes a few times, but you're inside an airplane and unless you're lucky and get a window seat you can't see much. Hanging off the side of the vertibird I could see everything. Cambridge was all there, the colors of the buildings and the broken ribbon of the highway arcing up and down. I held on and leaned out, with the wind from the rotors whipping at my helmet. It was evening and I saw lights, people, in places I'd never expected people might be. There were touches of green too, overgrown gardens in patches of clean soil. I must have been grinning like a fool.

We swung out over the river and Danse said in my headset, "The Commonwealth looks different from up here doesn't it? It never ceases to amaze me how drastically your perception of the battlefield changes from the air."

I hadn't been thinking of battlefields. I was just thinking how beautiful and sad it was.

Danse continued, as the vertibird turned to follow the river, giving me a view down at the empty ruins of CIT. "We're going to need that edge when we take on the Institute. They've already proven that they're technologically superior, which means there's no telling what types of weapons they have in their arsenal. Hopefully our air superiority and tactical know-how will make the difference. Now all we have to do is find them. Right there probably, the Institute was CIT so there must be a connection. I'm betting Elder Maxson will have a plan already in place by the time we arrive."

I nodded, looking down at the ruins. Not so empty as I'd first thought; a super mutant stepped out of a door and looked up at us. I wondered if the minigun was live, but we were gone before I could have aimed. We went over a road and I saw a caravan, two brahmin and some guards. Cricket, maybe. I waved, but there was no way she could see me.

"I wish everyone down there believed in our cause but they've been blinded by rumors and misinformation. They don't realize that the Brotherhood of Steel is the Commonwealth's last hope for survival. Every man, woman and child below is in mortal danger. If we fail it's only a matter of time before the enemy overwhelms the population. We're here to cleanse the Commonwealth and I'll gladly spill my own blood if it ensures our victory."

Danse was speaking quietly, I almost wondered if he didn't realize I could hear. Maybe we really were feeling the same thing as we watched the land below fade into blue dusk as the sun set. The lights of human civilization stood out warm and gold in the sea of soft gloom. And he was right, this fragile civilization was in danger and seeing it like this, seeing all of it, made me want to protect it.

We flew in silence for a while as the ground below faded and only the skyscrapers stood out. Danse didn't speak until he said, "We're on final approach to the airport… and there she is."

And there it was, a huge looming shadow against the fading sky. And then the lights came on. Spotlights from the airport illuminated the Prydwen, making it glow silver, shining over the world that sank into darkness below.

I couldn't help a quiet, "Wow..."

It was another minute before Danse continued, all business now, "We'll be meeting Lancer-Captain Kells on the flight deck. Just stick close to me and answer all his questions. And try not to gawk. You're a soldier now… this is the moment when everything changes. I hope you're ready."

Our vertibird slid under the huge belly of the ship and hovered. I leaned out to look up and saw machinery overhead. I didn't get a good look but I heard and felt it when something hooked the vertibird from above, the rotors spun down and things went quieter as the vertibird was pulled upward and clunked into some kind of dock with walkways on either side.

We waited a minute then Danse stood up to help me out of my harness. I got my armor and guns back on and hopped down onto the walkway. The pilot waved to us as he did whatever postflight checks a vertibird needs. I know Danse told me not to gawk but I couldn't resist going to the edge of the walkway and looking down. Far below, water and the airport. Ahead, the ruins of Boston slumping into darkness. The walkway was solid under my feet and I could see how it connected to a main path running the length of the ship and then to stairs up to a real door that would lead inside.

Danse waved me over to speak to a ramrod-straight man in a very military hat and coat. He called, "Permission to come aboard, sir?"

"Permission granted and welcome back, Paladin! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission. And is this our new recruit?" Lancer-Captain Kells looked at me with sharp dark eyes. I tried to stand straight.

Danse nodded, "Yes sir. I've field promoted her to initiate and I'd like to sponsor her entry into our rankings personally."

"Yes, we've read your reports. You'll be pleased to know Elder Maxson's approved your request, and placed the recruit in your charge."

"Thank you, sir. And my current orders?"

"You are to remain on the Prydwen and await further instructions. Your quarters are ready if you want to settle in."

"Very good sir." Danse said, and they both saluted fist-to-chest and said, "Ad Victoriam" which was very strange to me. Danse headed inside, trusting me alone with his superior officer.

Kells said, "So you're the one Paladin Danse has taken under his wing. Huh. You don't look much like a soldier to me."

"What's a soldier supposed to look like?" I asked, honestly curious. I was very visibly armed.

"A soldier is supposed to be an efficient killing machine, not a relic from the past playing catch-up with the rest of the world. A vault suit? If Danse hadn't stepped in and vouched for you we wouldn't even be having this conversation. Accepting outsiders like yourself has proven disastrous in the past. But I've read Paladin Danse's reports and he seems to think you'll make a fine addition to the Brotherhood."

"High praise, I'll try to live up to it." I said. Now I wonder if the disastrous outsider he mentioned might have been your famous Lone Wanderer, whose reputation must not be great with Maxson's followers.

"You might expect an endorsement like that to grant you a great deal of latitude with us, but let me make one thing clear. The Brotherhood of Steel has traveled to the Commonwealth with a specific goal in mind. As captain of this vessel, I won't allow anyone to jeopardize our mission no matter how valuable they think they are. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good. Elder Maxson will be addressing the crew shortly and I'm sure any questions you have will be answered there. Your orders are to proceed through that door to the command deck for the address, after which elder Maxson wishes to have a word with you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." came out without thought. Kells is the kind of guy you call sir, even if you don't normally call people sir.

"Good. Dismissed, Initiate."

I didn't rush, trying to get my bearings on the platform. Several other people in different sorts of uniforms were also heading towards the door and a young man dressed like Scribe Haylin beckoned to me to come with them. Through the door and across a metal room I saw banks of windows looking out over Boston. A semicircle of people had gathered and I saw Danse still in his power armor saying hello to his comrades. Then Elder Maxson made his appearance.


	58. Maxson

**So 4 is set ten years after 3 which makes Maxson, what, twenty? Thereabouts. I decided Em is 29 when she leaves the vault, making her the same age as the Lone Wanderer. It feels very significant that the heroes from all three of these Fallout games could be the same age, like the door is open for interesting cross-game meetings. Shipping, even! I'm not going that way in this story but someone else could have a lot of fun with it.**

**Also Maxson is so not played as twenty in the game. I mean, I could've decided to write him as basically an angsty teenager with a private army and not been wrong!**

Begin Recording

Maxson

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I'd been prepared to like Elder Maxson. Danse idolized the guy, and he was the leader of an army so there had to be something to him. And there is, something.

Since he's called Elder I'd expected an _elder_, but Maxson is younger than I am by a good ten years. He was in his early twenties, probably the youngest person on the flight deck but carrying it off with height and broad shoulders and sheer presence. He strode onto the flight deck in his long coat and captured us all.

"Brothers and sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction and most impressively, without question."

I think my eyes went wide and I looked at the people around me. Without question? Really? Every mission I send a troop of Minutemen on they know what they're doing, and if there's time they can discuss how to do it. I get questions every way I turn. Not no one else on the flight deck looked the least bit uncertain. This army was real in a way the Minutemen were not.

"Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission. Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer… known as the Institute, a malignant growth that needs to be cut out before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb… the synth. A robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being!

"This notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous! And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly it has the potential to render us extinct as a species.

"I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost. But in the end we will be saving mankind from its worst enemy… itself. Ad Victoriam!"

Scribe, have you met Arthur Maxson? Or maybe I should say, have you ever been on the receiving end of one of his speeches? I've heard Desdemona give a few 'inspiring the troops' talks, she's really good at it. Preston's no slouch either no matter what he thinks, but Maxson is on a whole 'nother level. The man is hypnotic. Everyone around me started shouting "Ad Victoriam!" back and I just stood there stunned. And frightened. Hatred and suspicion of the Institute had done enough damage in Diamond City, and here was an army with the same mindset but a lot more guns. If they couldn't find the Institute to attack directly, where were those guns going to end up pointed?

The others on the flight deck, who must have been the officers of the Prydwen, dispersed back to their duties but Elder Maxson nodded to me to come join him at the windows. We were looking down at the shadowy ruins of Boston, now almost completely dark. There wasn't much civilization in the heart of the city besides super mutant bonfires.

Quietly Maxson said, "I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth."

"And yet you're preparing for war in the Commonwealth."

"The Brotherhood is here to prevent a war by starting one of our own. The difference is, our war won't reduce civilization to ashes." And he sounded so confidant that I found myself nodding, even though what he'd just said made no damn sense. War is war, and it rolls over the innocent caught in its path. But I couldn't say that to this man. I could—I had—had this discussion with Danse who was curious about the wars of the old world and wanted to hear every detail I could remember of Nate's letters back from overseas.

"What did you want from me, sir?"

"I want you to start taking responsibility for this planet. To start making a difference. And from what I've seen in Paladin Danse's reports you've already begun that journey with your citizen soldiers. Seeing as he's one of my most respected field officers, you couldn't get a better recommendation. Therefor from this moment I'm granting you the rank of Knight. And befitting your title we're granting you a suit of power armor to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it with pride."

"Sir, I can't accept… I'm flattered, but I have other responsibilities and to be honest I don't agree with all of your beliefs." Though the idea of a brand new set of power armor was pretty tempting.

"Yet despite that, Paladin Danse still feels you'd be an asset to the Brotherhood. Please familiarize yourself with the Prydwen and meet my staff. Danse is your patron with us, and I hope you won't let him down." He saluted, fist-to-chest, and I nodded back and went to find Danse.

Nobody else seemed to mind me walking around their wonderful ship like a tourist; Danse's word meant a lot here. I didn't even get any glares for turning down the rank. I suppose claiming other responsibilities was a good reason.

The Prydwen is impressive to look at, but inside it's all gray steel and red lights and uncomfortable chairs. But the view… I opened a door and found myself on what must've been the forward deck, outside in the night air. The moon had risen and fallen Boston was illuminated dull blue with sparks of red where super mutants had lit bonfires.

Back inside, Danse had gotten out of his power armor and into the same uniform everyone else was wearing. "There you are. How did it go with Elder Maxson?"

I honestly didn't know so I said, "I was expecting the elder to be older. He's younger than anyone here, how does that work?"

"Don't let his age fool you. Maxson's a brilliant tactician, a formidable warrior and possesses an idealistic vision for the future of the Brotherhood. I'd follow him anywhere, without question."

"That's what worries me. That speech in there… he believes every word doesn't he? He's impressive, but he's going to get a lot of people hurt."

"As did the elder we had before him. Elder Lyons sent the brotherhood down a path that was leading nowhere but Maxson single handedly re-prioritized the Brotherhood and put us back on the path to glory. This ship is testament to that. Let me show it to you."

"Yes please! I'd like to meet everyone. Especially the officer in charge of collecting food from the settlers."

Danse sighed. "I hope you appreciate how much of a chance I'm taking bringing you into the fold this quickly. Not to put too fine a point on it, but you screw up… we go down together. So it probably shows that I've lost my mind that I'm going to take you to see Proctor Teagan so you can try negotiating. The scribes run on paperwork so you might even make it work."

So we went and did that. Proctor Teagan greeted me with, "I hope you're not one of those 'by the book' military types." Which was a good start.

"I'm not one of them. I'm here to talk to you about trading protection for food from the farms."

"What about it? Food stores don't replenish themselves you know, and we are here to protect them. Farmers ought to appreciate it."

"They do, but they'd like to set some standards to protect both sides. So you don't get stuck with moldy mutfruit." And I unfolded the several different contracts we'd written.

Danse said, "She does things like this." and sat down on a crate, because this was clearly going to take a while.

It did, but it worked. Proctor Teagan had been used to the citizens of the Capital, who were happy to support the Brotherhood who'd basically saved them from the Enclave. Arriving in the Commonwealth with similar expectations hadn't gone well.

And the Brotherhood had come to the Commonwealth with reports of scattered, struggling farms and people who'd be happy to have an army defending them and in awe of the Brotherhood's aircraft. Then they arrived and found a network of connected settlements and people who were already depending on the Minutemen and knew a protection racket when they heard one. Teagan was relieved to have a local representative—me—to deal with and set up trading with guarantees on paper. Now he didn't have to worry about the collecting parties getting shot by the locals or getting crates of rotten mutfruit instead of anything edible.

And that's how I ended up allies with the Brotherhood sort of behind the boss' back.


	59. Visiting the Institute

**Sorry once again for the delay, which was three times as long as I meant to keep y'all waiting but y'all get three times as many new chapters as expected so I hope it evens out! **

Begin Recording

Visiting the Institute

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I did spend more time in the Institute, usually evenings when I didn't have to be running around putting out fires. Sometimes literally, I think it was in those days that another raider gang decided to move into Saugus Ironworks and they turned something on and lit the forest on fire and then Abraham Finch suggested that with a few more people they could hold the building and Sturges started drooling over the forges. It all got set up, eventually. Days like that when I'd spent hours running back and forth trying to convince the ghouls at the Slog that if they could spare some crops now we could mass produce bullets later I was ready to run off to the Institute and hide somewhere calm.

I tried to get to know all the divisions. Rosalind Ormon was happy to talk laser weapons. It was really strange to be at a firing range again, and Rosalind is the same kind of goofy competitive as some of Nate's army buddies who we shot with so there was this strange nostalgia.

I wanted to get to know Doctor Li as well, but she was uninterested. I got a few brief answers, things like 'The Brotherhood made everything possible, then took over. And that was the more rational Brotherhood. The airship is your problem, my research is mine.' And there I was wishing I could hear the whole story of what happened in Capital Wasteland from someone who'd been right in the middle of it but knowing she had no interested in sharing. So I left her alone like she wanted.

Thankfully Allie Filmore was interested in chatting. She was curious about the surface and the Brotherhood and kind of… everything. Scientists. She's the mother of a boy, so she could imagine how I felt after learning the truth about my own son and reached out in kindness. We just got along. Her son Quentin is a bit of a handful and my Shaun is too sometimes so we still talk often.

The kid still followed me around whenever he could. I asked if he minded me calling him that and he said it was fine, "It's because I have the same name as Father, right? I wonder why he gave me the same name. It confuses people."

"Maybe he just thinks it's a good name." I lied.

The boy introduced me to the people he knew. Doctor Watson was one of his teachers, and Doctor Binet was patient with the boy for a surprising reason.

"His girlfriend is a synth?" I repeated the fact that contradicted everything I knew about the Institute.

"Kind of." The kid said. "They're not really going out but Eve lives with him and Liam. She's a personal synth."

"Can I meet her?" I asked. My first thought was curiosity. My second thought was, .._.how personal is personal?_ When I'd described synths in the Institute Piper had asked, "Nobody's made the synth of his dreams and programmed her so she can't say no?" and I'd been able to say there was no sign of anything like that going on, unless this was it. I couldn't imagine Doctor Binet as that kind of man, but I was certainly going to check.

"Sure. Now if you want."

We weren't doing anything so the kid and I went up to the Binet family's quarters. The door was open so they were available to visitors. The kid leaned in the doorway and called, "Eve? Want to meet my friend Em?"

Eve came out of the kitchen area. She's a thin-faced woman with dark hair scooped back from her face, and I was surprised to find her an ordinary woman rather than a raving beauty. But she had a welcoming smile. "Oh, it's you! Alan's mentioned meeting you. I'm Eve."

"Nice to meet you."

"You want to know what I am of course."

I made an apologetic face, "I don't mean to be rude, but I am curious. What's a 'personal synth'?"

"Doctor Binet is carrying out a social experiment, he wants to see if a synth can integrate into a human family."

"Do you like being part of this experiment? Did you have a choice?"

"Ah, I see what you're asking and it's very kind of you. The whole project was explained to me and I decided to accept it. I know I can never replace Alan's wife or be a real mother to Liam, but I can at least help with the domestic duties. I like to think I'm a pretty good cook!" She does sound honestly proud, but also sad.

"Eve's a really good cook." the kid said.

So we talked about cooking for a while and then Liam Binet came home and joined in since by then we'd got past prewar cooking and on to how to roast bloatfly over a fire. Like his father he's patient with the boy and now I understand it's because of Eve. Knowing her as a family member has given them a different perspective on synths so they don't mind the kid acting like a kid. It was a nice afternoon. I never did ask straight out just how personal a personal synth is, but there was no sign that she was anything but happy in her family.

The scientists in Bioscience too were happy to have me around. I admired the gorillas appropriately, I was happy to join in the debates over which animal should be created next, and I knew a lot about farming on the surface. Doctor Holdren had a lot of questions about surface soil and asked for samples from different areas of the Commonwealth where plants grew naturally. I knew a lot of those places, because anywhere the ground was good enough for weeds it might be good enough for crops or even trees. I was hoping to learn the secrets of the Institute's trees, and was sad to learn that all attempts to grow trees outside had failed. I let people talk my ears off over theories of why the trees wouldn't grow while we hung around watching the gorillas.


	60. Most Embarrassing Moment

**Yeah officially bloatflies shoot larvae but you _see_ your character covered in slime. **

Begin Recording

Most Embarrassing Moment

Recording by Scribe Ellison

And then there was that time half the Institute saw me naked.

I was rushing to help out with a raider attack at Tenpines, I'd been out hunting so it was just me and Dogmeat and we were in a well patrolled area so I wasn't paying enough attention. I didn't see the pool around the overpass support column until I was right up to it and up came four big bloatflies. Really big, one glowing, and they all hit me at once.

If you're lucky enough never to have been hit by a bloatfly, the big ones shoot this poison goo. Their bodies hold onto toxic chemicals and bacteria just to spit at any life forms that get close. The stuff works through the skin and it's bad enough to knock down a brahmin in ten yards so the bloatflies can feed on the carcass.

Power armor provides full protection, even a good suit of cage armor helps. I was wearing pieces of armor over fabric.

I barely had time to realize what happened before the goo soaked through my clothes and the smell hit and dropped me to my knees retching up everything I'd eaten that day while the bloatflies kept spitting at my back.

Suddenly I was in more trouble than the settlers at Tenpines. This stuff would kill me before I could get to a doctor. My hands and feet were already going numb. I yelled to Dogmeat to go home and forced my fingers to hit the right buttons on the Pip-boy to activate the molecular relay.

It delivered me to my quarters, not the usual arrival room—apparently it's programmed to do that when detecting abnormal vital signs—but I didn't have time to wonder, too busy getting my poison soaked gear off and getting to the shower. While I was still throwing up and my hands weren't working.

The polite synth appeared to save my life and I managed to communicate that my clothes were poisoned and I needed to wash this muck off. He helped me get my boots and gun harness off and I managed to finish stripping and get under the shower. It felt like it took forever before I finally felt clean water washing off the stinking goo. Standing up was too much work so I curled up on the floor of the shower under the spray.

The polite synth said, "It seems you need medical attention. I will bring help."

I waved one hand in a 'yeah, you should do that' kind of way and went back to trying to wash with numb hands.

A minute later in came Doctor Volkert and all his nurses to see the effects of this surface world toxin, and a lab assistant from Bioscience to collect a sample of goop for analysis and Allie to make sure I was all right and the boy synth peeking in the door until someone banished him. I suddenly had enough energy to make panic noises and yank the shower curtain closed.

The Institute's medical team is completely professional and Doctor Volkert directed two female synth assistants to get me a shower chair and help me finish washing myself off and get out of the water and into a bathrobe. So I guess half the Institute saw me _half_ naked.

Doctor Volkert checked my vitals and my hands and feet, which were getting some movement and feeling back. "You got here in time, I believe. Expect an unpleasant day or two but a full recovery seems likely. Now, I want you in the hospital where you can be monitored and retrieve hydration."

Not what I wanted to hear; the medical wing of the Institute is centrally located and not at all private. But once I was in a medical bed getting medicine through an iv, I did feel better.

Allie arranged some privacy screens so nobody could gawk and said, "Clayton wants to hear everything you know about bloatflies once you're feeling better. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Make sure my dog's ok?" I begged.

Allie frowned a little but said doubtfully, "I'll see what I can do."

My eyes were closing, I wasn't exactly sleepy but I was feeling better enough to want to shut out the world and just recover for a little while. There was definitely some med-x in that iv bag and without the adrenaline of combat it was going straight to my head. And I'd _really_ better not talk to anybody in the Institute while stoned.

Of course as soon as I thought that my brain decided to whine, "He didn't come check on me."

Allie sighed, "Shaun isn't very good with things like this. I guarantee he's interrogating Doctor Volkert though, to make sure you'll be all right."

I mumbled something about bloatflies and my dignity and pulled the sheet up over my face. Allie chuckled sympathetically and I heard her leave.

I didn't actually doze off, I could hear people moving around and talking quietly, the usual sort of background noise of the Institute. It's very restful, a quieter quiet than we have in Sanctuary. And you know you're not going to be awakened by a raider attack, which helps. Doctor Holdren turned up talking in hushed excited tones about 'refined environmental toxins' and 'reversible neural disruption.' I pretended to be asleep, to save that conversation for when I wasn't quite so heavily medicated.

Later on he worked out that bloatflies do interesting things to whatever toxic substances they absorb from their environment, so each bloatfly will spit a different flavor of disgusting ooze. Oh, and they hold the toxin in a sac that's 'analogous to the uterus' except that males also have it, they just don't also keep larvae in it. Doctor Holdren had a lot of fun dissecting a bunch of bloatflies that I brought him. But that was later.

After some time I heard heavy footsteps approach and stop. I rolled over and looked, wondering—but it was X6-88.

"I accompanied your dog to the settlement of Tenpines Bluff. The settlers recently repelled a raider attack with little obvious damage. I did not reveal my presence to them."

Relief or maybe the chems made my head spin. "Thank you."

A pause then X6 asked, "What is the rationale for spending Institute resources to ensure the safety of an animal?"

I closed my eyes again. "There is no rationale. He's my dog. I love him."

"I see." X6 said. I had to look but the courser's face was as always blank of emotion. I was pretty sure he didn't see, unless he was just filing my words away as one more human emotion thing not worth thinking about. I was in no state to have a philosophical discussion with a courser, even though I was curious how much was really going on behind their blank faces and creepy sunglasses.

The next morning I was back on my feet and happy to find my quarters and my gear had been cleaned. I thanked the polite synth profusely and tried to tip him a bag of caps, which he refused. I hadn't really noticed him before, though I'd seen him around. The polite synth was a gen-three but he was bald and pasty skinned and looked more synthetic than most of the synths in the institute. He must be an early model.

"T4-61, ma'am. I am Father's assistant and have been assigned to look after your quarters as well."

"I really appreciate it, especially now. Is there anything I can do to thank you, if I can't give you some caps?" He'd cleaned up after I got sick everywhere; he deserved something!

"No ma'am. It is my duty."

He seemed to mean it. I couldn't think of anything else, so I bought a bunch of the tastiest food bars from the canteen and kept them in my quarters and told him to help himself. Not sure he ever did; I think the kid ate most of them.

And that's why the Institute was so tempting. Of course I wanted someone else to do my chores for free so I could have clean clothes and food delivered anytime I wanted. But the moment it was some_one_ not some_thing_ washing your clothes for free, then it wasn't fair and that'll come back to bite you.


	61. Some Yelling

Begin Recording

Some Yelling

Recording by Scribe Ellison

And then Desdemona made her pitch for blowing up the Institute. I was really shaken, a lot more surprised than I should have been. The Railroad is very dedicated, but always tried not to leave a human body count. They're secret agents mostly, not soldiers. And Des is my _friend_. I didn't want to believe that someone I'd had long talks about leadership with would turn around and ask me to do a thing like that.

So I yelled. About the kids in the Institute, and the scientists who had nothing to do with making synths and all the other technology down there that could save a lot of lives. Of course the Institute wasn't _sharing_ that tech, but if it was all blown up they'd never have a chance to change their minds.

Desdemona did at least say the plan was to take over the molecular relay and send all the synths, oh and noncombatants too, to the surface. Where the synths would be whisked into safehouses and protected.

Looking back now it wasn't a completely terrible idea, with preparation it could have been all right, but at the time I was just seeing my son, and Allie, and the kid and his friends in danger. I said something about, "I'm happy to fight for synths because they're people, and I have to fight for _people_, too!"

By this point we were glaring each other down over the planning table and everyone was watching. Then Deacon put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me away. "Let's revisit this question later, boss. I think the General needs to cool off a little."

I swatted him, but let myself be herded to the door. We passed Glory and Drummer Boy, who were holding caps and scowling at Deacon. I'm pretty sure they'd been placing bets on me or Des to win the fight.

Outside it was evening and it was cold. I stamped and stormed a few yards, ready to turn more yelling on Deacon, but outside is not the place to lose your temper and lose track of your surroundings. Habit made me stop, look around, and take a deep breath. The smell of outside, dust and clean air with a tang of sea salt and rot, got my brain thinking again. I kept walking, but slowly and listening for trouble. Deacon sauntered along behind me, watching the buildings around us.

The Railroad headquarters at the time was not in a safe area of Boston, but just when I'd have welcomed something to take my temper out on we were alone.

Finally I said, "You know I'm still on board with the mission, right? Saving synths?"

"Oh, of course. You're just not on board with killing your baby, the only thing you have left from your past. I did try to warn the boss."

I wondered if he really had. Deacon doesn't usually lie to manipulate people, he just lies because he does.

Deacon pointed up at an old scaffolding along a building and trotted up it with perfect confidence as the thing swayed. I followed more slowly, with care for the two hundred year old construction.

Then, quietly, "He's not a good person, Em."

"...I know. But he can still become a better one." I reached the top, a balcony sticking out of the floor that everything else had collapsed onto. There are a pair of chairs up here and a cooler with a railsign chalked on it. A lookout post, from which we can see the approach to headquarters and a great view all the way down to the ocean. There was a small patch of green by the water and maybe ten radstags had stopped to graze, led by a big buck with glowing green buboes all the way down its sides.

Deacon said, "I know you like getting up high where you can see everything."

I looked at him, startled. I do like to climb on things to get a look around, but I hadn't realized that myself much less thought my friends might've noticed.

Deacon is… and odd duck. I can't imagine what he'd have been before the war, but here he's one of the top people in the Railroad. My friend. Probably my handler too. Don't trust half the stuff that comes out his mouth, but I trust _him_.

"Aren't you the one who said not to believe what people say, look at what they do and what they're asking _me_ to do?"

"Did I say that?"

I leaned against the sunwarmed brick of the crumbling wall behind up. "Yes you did. Look, tell Des—I'll look into it. See if the Institute has a solid evacuation plan to get everyone out. Then maybe, later, when I'm sure the Institute can't ever turn around and do something good… maybe then. It's not just about Shaun, it really isn't. That's a lot of people you're asking me to pull the trigger on."

"If there was anyone else who could do it… the boss didn't want to put it all on you but you're the one with the teleport chip. We're fighting for our lives here."

"I know." I said, the weight of those lives heavy on me. "I won't lead the coursers here either. Even if Shaun asks me to. Which he probably will. Make sure Des knows _that_ too."

"Will do. You should probably stay away from HQ for a bit. Use the dead drops to get in touch."

"I will." I sighed and stood up. "I should get moving. It'll be a walk to get to Goodneighbor where I can rent a bed." I'd been planning to sleep over in headquarters but that seemed like a bad idea now so I had to find somewhere else to spend the night. I started climbing down, already planning my route.

From behind me I heard, "What a coincidence, I need to check in with some tourists in Goodneighbor. I'll walk with you. We'll get there in time to catch Magnolia's last set."


	62. Scientific Proof

Begin Recording

Scientific Proof

Recording by Scribe Ellison

So I was banished by the Railroad, sort of. Desdemona did keep sending freed synths to hide out in the settlements, which felt like the Railroad was happy to use me even though they didn't trust me. Which was what I wanted but also didn't feel great. And of course when I had time I was still visiting the Institute, to see what I could learn that might help synths and humans.

Justin Ayo did not like me hanging around the SRB but he wasn't allowed to banish me. And he was right, I was up to no good.

That had started one day when Carla turned up with a guard, "He offered to come along for free! Strange fella. Always wears sunglasses."

"Ah."

By the time I tracked him down Deacon was already three bids deep at the weapons stall and scratching Dogmeat under the chin with his free hand. "Hey, it's the General! Just let me finish buying these mini-nukes. Had to come all this way; Arturo was out."

"I can guess whose birthday it is."

"Last year I got her a flamethrower." Deacon said seriously, and I thought he probably had. I hoped Glory would like her mini-nukes.

My job for the afternoon was cutting and crushing mutfruit so it could go into the pot for jam, and that's where Deacon found me. He offered to take over the pot stirring job and Jimmy happily accepted and ran off to get some target practice in. "So what brings you here?" I asked between chops.

"Tom's been going over the files we've got and he thinks there are sections missing. He says he saw code meant to trick the network into thinking it can see everything—well, he didn't say it like that but once I talked him into English that was what I got. So! New file scanner. Plug this into every terminal you can get to in courser central and we'll see what the SRB is hiding from the rest of the Institute."

I took the holotape and put it away. "My pleasure. It'll take a while though, Ayo does not trust me around his division. I'm allowed everywhere but most of his people watch me like hawks—like radgulls anyway."

"Almost like they think you're helping the Railroad."

It did take some time to get at all the SRB terminals when nobody was looking. I finally managed with the excuse that I wanted to make a paper copy of the map. Alana saw no reason to stop me and even said I could come in at night to work on it. And I did make a really nice map by tracing from the glowing map table, and I looked at the screens long enough to figure out how they were recording those images when we hadn't found any cameras. And I plugged the holotape into every terminal in the place.

If it had been any other division I think I would have felt bad about spying.

It was worth it, because the SRB had been tracking synth disappearances in a lot more detail than they were telling anybody else. Ayo had told me "we're looking into it" when I met him, but in fact he was tracking every bit of data he could get.

"Well this is interesting." Deacon said sarcastically as he read it off my terminal with his sunglasses pushed up on his head.

I was hovering over his shoulder trying to read it too. "What is?"

"The pattern of 'asset loss.' It spreads like an idea not a glitch."

I blinked. Deacon was clearly seeing something there but I didn't see it. I usually see Deacon in a shooting-things context so I sometimes forget the Railroad actually keeps him around because he's really smart. "Say that again with twice the words."

"They think it's a programming thing, they're tracking system updates like the urge to run off is in the data. But it isn't. It's synths who have seen the surface and synths who work with them. Synths escape because they've heard from other synths that it's possible. It's all right here."

All I saw was a very large table with a lot of rows and columns. A lot of information that I could probably work out to the same answer given plenty of time. "So that means… synths aren't human but they're doing things for human reasons?"

"...yeah." Deacon flicked his shades down. "That's it. It isn't exactly 'proof that synths are people' since they are programmed to be like people but it's something. It's proof that Ayo is looking in the wrong place for his answers. Let's see what else we've got."

I gave up on trying to read and did chores around the house, washed my clothes and swept the floor and things while Deacon looked over the data. He'd been hanging around Sanctuary all week while I filled up the holotape, helping around town like any other guest but making people nervous because nobody knows who he is other than 'one of the General's friends.' After a while Deacon sat back and stretched.

"Find something?"

"Oh did I ever." Deacon said, and smiled a cheerful, terrifying smile. "The numbers don't lie, assuming these are the real numbers. It's costing the Institute more in resources to keep losing gen-three synths than it would cost them to just let the robots do the manual labor and get their humans to do the skilled stuff. Ayo isn't telling anybody how much he's using the coursers so nobody's worked it out. But it's easy to see if you're looking."

I came over to look, and of course I only saw another large table of data. "Can you make that look really obvious and put it on a tape? In case I need to pull it out of my hat."

"Already on it, General." Deacon calls me 'General' in an entirely sarcastic yet also affectionate way. I have a perfectly good Railroad codename that I'm proud of but we don't always use them in person. "Give it to the Director at the most tactical moment. That'll make it worth staying up here this whole time."

"So you're not just in Sanctuary because you wanted a farming vacation?"

Deacon was looking through his sunglasses at the screen when he said, "I'm keeping an eye on you while everyone else moves headquarters."

I groaned. "I get that Desdemona isn't happy with me since I won't help her blow people up but does she really still think I'm going to sell you out?"

"Not by choice."

Oh.

"He wouldn't." No response. "Deacon, he wouldn't." _My son wouldn't have me tortured._

"Of course he wouldn't." Deacon said, sounding totally serious and sincere. And I wanted to hit him, of course. But I couldn't be entirely sure, no matter what I said.


	63. Lost

**So yeah, it's the quest with the giant pumpkin that really shows the Institute's true colors. When your go-to option is "first we'll murder a dude" then you are the baddies. **

Begin Recording

Lost

Recording by Scribe Ellison

We had a little time. I had more dinners with my son, he invited me regularly. I think he'd read somewhere that family dinner was important before the war. He gave me a mat—it looks like a rubber placemat actually—that's full of circuits that the molecular relay can send things to. I put it in a mailbox, across the river and in full view of all of Sanctuary's turrets, in case someday things went wrong and the Institute decided to send in a lot of synths. But all I received were notes inviting me to come to the Institute for dinner or to see some invention or other.

…Then, after I'd refused to help my friends and my… allies destroy the Institute, I almost regretted it. I hadn't told my son, it had only been a day or two since I had it out with Maxson and he threatened to shoot me because better dead than working for the Institute. I wasn't sure just how to say, 'My friends want me to kill you, and I won't do it, and I won't kill for you either.' The moment that conversation started, our relationship would change forever.

I was fooling myself, of course. Desperately trying to believe my son and I could at least be friends, because that was all we had left. So I didn't ask any hard questions, hoping we could have just one more day. Amazingly, this self deception didn't get us all killed.

Father had invited me to come to a Directorate meeting, he said he had something important to talk to me about, so I sent myself down quite early in the morning.

The kid caught me as I stepped off the elevator. He always seemed to be around. "You came back!"

"Yep, back again. Father wanted me to come to the big meeting."

"Why do you want to listen to the division heads grumble at each other? Come explore with me! Something's happening in synth processing today, I heard Doctor Holdren say so when I was watching the gorillas and he didn't think I was listening."

"Well that does sound interesting… can we look fast? Before the meeting starts?" I'd come early, so we had some time.

"Sure! I know a back way in, come on!" He grabbed my hand and pulled and I let myself be dragged.

"Hey kid, how do you know the back ways into everywhere?"

"I can go wherever I want, nobody notices me."

We stopped for food and as we ate our nutrient bars the boy asked what I did on the surface so I tried to explain, "All the groups of people made a deal, whenever anyone calls for help everyone else comes to help them. We call that the Minutemen. I'm the leader, like Father is the leader here—but people argue back to me a lot more than they argue back to Father! So I have to run around helping people all the time, sometimes with fighting raiders or mutants, sometime with farming or building a new barn."

"That's neat!"

I smiled. "Yeah it is. It's a lot of work too, but I have plenty of friends to help me."

The boy nodded, sad suddenly, and I wondered how lonely he was here. He always found me when I came to the Institute and wanted to follow me around. And I let him because he was good company and I felt sorry for him. My son didn't invite the kid when we had dinner together, one of the many things I didn't ask about.

We went under the arch into robotics, where a couple of lab techs were setting up. The boy tugged me down behind a bank of machinery out of sight. He pointed to a door I hadn't been through before, grinning now because we were getting away with something. He was such a normal kid.

Unnoticed, we ducked through the door into the kind of storage corridors we'd used to get into the FEV lab on my first visit. "Hey kid, where are we going exactly?"

"Back into processing. Doctor Holdren said a courser was bringing him something from the surface and put it here and I want to see what it is."

And suddenly I was worried. So I knew something was wrong before we got to the door. We heard banging and muffled shouts. A man's voice with an edge of panic to it. The boy hesitated. "Maybe someone's angry."

My stomach was clenching. "No, someone's scared. I'd better go see what's wrong. You stay in the hall in case it's dangerous."

I opened the door and saw—

One of the synth programming chairs with a synth in it, back to back with a different kind of torture device. Straps held the wastelander's arms and legs bound while a white helmet covered his head. He couldn't see but he was shouting to the empty room, "Let me up! We can talk about this! I've got a farm, my family can pay! Caps! Plenty of caps! Just talk to me!"

The voice was familiar. For an instant I just knew _familiar_, then my mind flashed back to helping the Warwick family with their super mutant problem and then all of us being disappointed when the water treatment plant at their farm proved to be broken beyond hope. Someone I knew.

For an instant it was too much, I couldn't move. Then the boy said, "that's a real outsider!" and I jolted back to life.

"I have to get him out of there. Mr. Warwick, is that you?"

"_General_? I can't see! Get me out of this thing!"

There wasn't anyone else in the room; we had a little time. I rushed to the closest terminal. No password, thank goodness, and I found the command to release the 'original.'

The man wrenched the helmet off his head and it was Roger Warwick, white as a sheet but standing up and patting himself down as if his weapons might appear. "It is you! Last thing I remember I was home in bed. Is… this the Institute? Oh my god, that's me! They're making a synth of me!"

I nodded. I'd found the project proposal on the terminal and my eyes skipped from line to line. _Acquire and replace. Run experiments. Erase all signs of __I__nstitute involvement._

"General? Are we going to survive this?"

"...I don't know."

_Proposal approved by the Director._

I'd still been able to hope. My son was an old man, we couldn't be mother and child but we could still be friends. We could still care about each other.

We could still be all right if my son was an old man, but not if he was a monster.

I couldn't collapse now. "Roger, the only way out of here is through half the Institute and up the elevator. We can't sneak and we can't shoot our way out. If Father-"

The main door of the room opened and a female scientist rushed in. Not someone I'd met. "What are you doing? Just because you're Father's guest doesn't mean you can disrupt operations! The scan will have to be started from the beginning!"

I started, "Wait, tell me-"

"X4, please return the subject to the neural scanner. Uninjured. Incapacitate _her_ if she resists."

The courser advanced and Roger sensibly backed up with a muttered, "'The hell is that?"

The courser looked back and forth between us. It didn't draw a weapon so I assume it would take us down by hand.

At least I had a minute to draw a gun that wouldn't do any good. "We're dead. Sorry."

Then the boy shoved in front of me, shouting out a string of words and numbers.

The courser stopped suddenly, looking down at the boy. "Sorry sir, ma'am. I won't bother you." And it went back out the door. The scientist fled after it.

I fell to one knee and hugged the kid. Just for a second, but long enough for Roger to grab the laser rifle off my back and blast his copy into a pile of ask. The kid wailed at the sudden violence.

"They were going to send that thing back to my family! To pretend to be me! Why me?"

I stood up and reclaimed my weapon. "I don't know. Something about the farm. Let's go before she comes back with backup."

The kid tucked himself next to me. "Mmhm!"

"I'll follow you, General. What was that thing?"

There wasn't much point in sneaking now, since the scientist had no doubt run to tell everyone, but I couldn't help peeking through the door first. Nobody in the main room; the synth creation machinery was still. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

The boy said, "That was a courser. Father gave me that code because I was afraid of them. Um, are you friends?"

"Roger's family joined the Minutemen so when he's in trouble I have to help out."

"Father's going to yell at you."

"I'm going to yell at him."

The kid's eyes went really wide. "You can't yell at Father! Nobody yells at Father!"

We stepped through the archway onto the floor of flowing water. Roger actually stopped moving, he was that shocked at the sight of the trees and water and the great white arching bridges above us. "My god. This place..."

There are always people in the heart of the institute, but this time it was empty except for Allie Filmore frowning at us from beside the elevator. But since it was just her and not a lot of coursers I let myself hope. "Allie."

"I'm here to escort our guest back to the surface. The Director wants to see you. And the boy."

I nodded. "I'll ride up with you." I didn't entirely trust that something else wouldn't happen, and I didn't entirely trust that Roger wouldn't attack Allie, though he was giving her a look of great confusion. A polite, unarmed, pretty blonde woman was not what he'd been expecting.

So we all piled into the elevator and rode up into the Institute's simulated sky.

Roger gaped, just as I did when I first saw it. "People who live in a place like this… why?"

_Why are they doing this to us?_

I couldn't answer that so I said, "When you get home, don't tell anyone what happened. Think of some excuse. I'll come down and tell you everything when I can."

"They won't come after me again?"

I looked at Allie. She looked at the ceiling. I said, "I'll do my best. I don't know what's going to happen."

"General why are you even _talking_ to these people?"

I couldn't tell the whole truth so I waved at the beautiful world underneath us. "If people with technology to build this allied with the Minutemen..."

A slow nod. "I won't tell anyone. I want to keep living."

Allie's eyes went wide but she didn't comment. I wondered if she was scared of the outsider. She wasn't showing it, if she was.

We arrived at the top and Roger stood in the molecular relay and got sent home. I wondered how scary that was for a guy who'd already had a terrifying few hours. How would he possibly be all right after this? When not scared to death Roger was a hot-tempered impatient person and trauma couldn't possibly do him any good. Before the war there were doctors for this kind of thing, but these days 'take med-x until you don't care anymore' was a popular option.

Quietly Allie asked, "Why did he say that about not telling so he wouldn't die?"

"If anyone finds out he was here and came back out they'll assume he's an Institute agent and kill him, or assume he's a synth and kill him."

"Even his own family?"

"Of course!" I said, harsher than I meant to but fear is exhausting and the worst was still to come.

Silence.

I let out a long breath and poked the kid, "Hey. You should go hide somewhere so Father can just be mad at me. This isn't your fault."

The boy shook his head. He looked really scared.

"All right, if you want to. Let's go."

Allie, looking thoughtful, waved us to go ahead. The elevator took us all the way down to the back entrance to the Director's quarters.


	64. Heartbeats

Begin Recording

Heartbeats

Recording by Scribe Ellison

My son was waiting, with the same patient expression he'd worn when I first saw him. Totally calm.

And I suddenly had a last bit of energy to be angry again. "Shaun Michael Mason, what the _hell_ have your people been doing?" My son blinked, taken aback, and I realized what I'd said. Used his whole name like a mother disciplining a child.

Maybe because of that he turned first to the boy, who was unashamedly hiding behind me.

"A surprising result, well outside expected responses to stress. It may indicate too much deviation and require a total reset. We'll discuss that later. Go to your room, Shaun."

The boy had gone white to the lips. He ran to his little cubby and closed the door, picking up a book but not really reading it. He kept looking up at us.

Silence. My son sat down at his table, his composure broke and he suddenly looked as shattered as I felt.

After a long moment he said, "The first memory a child has is the sound of his mother's heartbeat and her voice. When I created the child's basic data implant I copied those first subconscious memories from my own mind. So in a way he is programmed to be fond of you. I never expected he would use that code in any disruptive way."

"Or it's because I listen to him." I said, though I felt my own heart skip at the intimacy of his confession. That was something that connected us over two hundred years, the time we'd shared when he was born. Of course Shaun didn't remember his first few months, but that time had happened and maybe it did matter.

I sat down. "Shaun… I read part of the experiment on a terminal down there. You approved killing and replacing Mr. Warwick, and then killing the whole settlement when the project was over. 'Purge all surface evidence.' And you told me the Commonwealth has nothing to fear from the Institute. How can I trust you now?"

"I suppose it wouldn't help you to know that the experiment could result in food crops that mature twice as fast and potentially feed hundreds. Or that I hadn't read the full proposal before approving it. If I had known the farm Clayton had his eye on was one that your Minutemen had taken under their wing I would not have allowed it to go forward."

I could see that he was trying and it did help, a little. "So has the Institute done this before? Replace the head of a family to use their land?"

"Yes. Once before I became director, and once after. I stipulated the choice of homestead be one that was failing, so that our interference would be a benefit. And as the settlers never suspected Institute involvement the place was not destroyed after the experiment concluded. Clayton explained to me that he needed to test his hybrids in more productive surface soil with a certain salt content. That is why the Warwick homestead was chosen for the experiment."

It was all so neat and right and I wanted to accept it but I'd spent too much time with Piper and Piper would not have believed a word. "Tell Doctor Holdren he can still run his experiment. There's a new field at Kingsport Lighthouse he can use."

"You know the settlements so well?"

"I plowed it, last week. Hitched a plow to my power armor and made a field."

"Yourself?" I'd never seen him look—surprised, almost laughing.

"That's how we farm, topside. I'll talk to Doctor Holdren later."

"No need. I'll inform him." And Shaun went to his terminal and typed quickly, and stood up—then had to sit back down and type something else. Finally he picked up a microphone and said, "Clayton, you will work with the surface dwellers once. If the project fails you can try some other way. I'll hear no more on the subject."

And that seemed to be that. I said, "Thank you." and wished I felt better. It was better, after all. If the Institute could work with settlers, even once, that could be a massive step forward.

If I could believe anything I'd just heard. If my son wasn't putting on a show for me. _The Commonwealth has nothing to fear from us._

_ The Director gives final approval for all projects._

_ Purge all surface evidence._

_ I'll hear no more on the subject._

I could feel it running out, every bit of hope I'd been hanging on to. I folded my arms and put my head down on them. "...Shaun, how can I trust you?"

A long silence.

"I'm sorry. You must feel very… betrayed. I don't know what else I can do to reassure you."

He was still trying. I didn't say anything.

A sigh. "I wanted you to come today because I planned to make an announcement at the directorate meeting. I have decided to name you my successor. To give the Institute to you, when I'm gone."

My head came up and the world, which had been fading to meaninglessness, snapped back into focus. "That won't work. I'm not from here, I'm not even a scientist. My world ended two hundred years ago. Nobody here is going to listen to my advice much less my orders."

"Then what do you think would work? What can I do for you?"

The words came without thought. "Change things. Communicate with the surface. Work with the people of the Commonwealth instead of using them. Stop making intelligent beings to keep as slaves. And don't do it for me, do it for everybody."

He was smiling a little, clearly finding me absurd. "Is that all?"

"Visit Diamond City. And tell the kid you won't reset him. He's frightened."

Shaun looked at me, smiling a little but I couldn't read his expression. After a long minute of me having no idea what he was thinking he stood up and went over to the boy's room and opened the door. The kid looked up, tense and flinching away.

"Shaun, your new friend convinced me of the wisdom of letting your personality develop naturally. I won't have your memories reset no matter how surprising your choices are."

The kid squeaked, "Thank you! Thank you!" He sort of tipped forward a little and I thought he wanted to hug Father. But he didn't. He scooted back into his room and grabbed the book again, smiling widely.

My son turned back to me. "If you'd really like me to visit Diamond City… all right. Choose a day. I suppose I will need appropriate clothing. The rest of what you said will require some consideration"

I had not expected that. While I was sitting there being surprised and thinking blankly that spotless prewar clothes would stand out in Diamond City, my son hesitated and began, "There was something else I meant to tell you today… but it can wait."

I didn't know whether to be relieved or angry or heartbroken, and I didn't think I could handle hearing anything else. "Maybe you can have the directors' meeting another day? Talk with the division heads about your retirement. I'll come back again. Thank you."

And because he tried, even though I'd just seen him to be a bully and a monster, I reached out and squeezed his arm in a little gesture of affection.


	65. Settler Stories

**I did mean for the adult settlers to have personalities, but the kids kind of stole the show. These three are the only ones with backstories so I figured they should at least get to have them on screen. **

Begin Recording

Settler Stories

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I know we're waiting for the next part of the story, but the General headed out this morning loaded down with extra guns and cursing about raiders kidnapping people.

Shiloh says, "Ooooh, Mom's mad she's gonna have to kill people and she hates that. Wanna come shoot mudballs with us, Scribe?"

"Sorry, I'm assigned to scoop fertilizer today."

"Aw, I wanted to beat a grownup!"

I laugh. "I'm sure you'll get a chance to beat me later."

To keep the crops growing, fields are cleared and left fallow on some schedule I haven't asked about yet. The empty fields need to be enriched with brahmin manure and ground mirelurk shell. The shell comes already ground from Coastal cottage and I'd hate to think how it smells there because it smells plenty bad here. My job along with a few others is to spread these smelly substances more or less evenly across the field. Then I get to put on the settlement's power armor frame and pull a plow to turn the soil and get everything mixed together. It's going to be a long day.

I'm surprised to find the settlement's doctor reporting to the manure pile, wearing road leathers and heavy gloves instead of her usual labcoat. "Nobody's in the hospital, we're good on supplies, and I've read medical journals until my eyes crossed. Let's do some hard labor!"

So we grab shovels and wheelbarrows and dig in. The doc and I are working with a young woman named Bella who smiles vacantly and doesn't speak much. Bella's face is oddly shaped and she's probably simple but she seems to understand enough to get by.

Doc Jenna catches my look and says, "I think her mum took psycho while pregnant, but Bella turned out all right."

Bella lives in the yellow house with Sturges and his apprentices, and I'd assumed she was Sturges' sister.

I say as much and Bella says, "I am!"

The doctor adds, "She came to town and fell for Sturges. He's no cad so he offered to be her brother instead."

We've got wheelbarrows full of manure and a few more full of bags of the mirelurk shell. Bella suggests we spread the shell first because then it'll be covered by the less smelly brahmin muck. That seems like a good plan so we park in the middle of the field and I cut open the bags with my knife and get spreading from the inside out.

After a while Bella stops, wipes her forehead and asks, "Does this really make the carrots grow more?"

"Sure does. This stuff puts nutrients in the soil that goes into the plants. Just like we feel better when we eat good food the carrots grow better when they eat good dirt."

Bella laughs.

We get everything spread out so the field is covered and in spite of our center-to-edges strategy so are our boots. The next step is to plow it in which means me in the power armor frame and the other two guiding the plow. Doing this with brahmin would be easier; power armor is designed for fighting not for dragging.

We take a break for lunch first and because I'm happy to put off more work I ask the doctor if she's like to record her story.

"Sure. It's not too exciting. Grew up in the Capital Wasteland some fifty years ago, in Little Lamplight. How I got there is a mystery to me, though I did come with a full name: Jenna Michelle Anderson, so whoever brought me into the world cared enough to give me three names.

"I learned doctoring from the doc in the caves and that was my job. Making sure nobody ate the wrong mushrooms mostly. Then about the time I started banging my head on the ceiling and the mayor was looking at me like it was time for me to go, a ghoul doctor came and knocked on the door. Doc Burt McCreen, with half a dozen apprentices and looking for a few more. He's a traveling doctor with a brahmin hauling books and medical supplies. He wanders around healing people and picking up youngsters to train to be doctors. I think he's been doing it since the bombs fell.

"Burt had stories about being an 'emergency medical technician' before the war. That's a kind of doctor specializing in treating wounds so it's good to know. He taught us to be traveling doctors, how to fix up folks without a lot of equipment.

"And that's what I did once Burt declared me graduated. Wandered all over, sometimes with others, sometimes alone. I hit the Commonwealth and a Gunner patrol grabbed me and hauled me back to headquarters to fix up their soldiers. They treated me well enough but it was clear this was a lifetime position whether I liked it or not. They literally cuffed me to a bed at night. But one of my patients was grateful and slipped me the key one night and I ran like hell. I made it to Diamond City and hid out at their surgery center but one day I heard the radio broadcast, our fearless leader sounding _very_ young and idealistic calling for settlers. So I came here and Em gave me a whole house to make my own hospital. Anyone who values medical that much is worth working for so she got my loyalty. I think Em wants to track down my teacher and put him in charge of a medical school."

"Sounds like her." I say, smiling. "Now we'd better get out and finish this."

So I get into the settlement's power armor frame that they keep around for heavy lifting. I should mention for my non-Brotherhood listeners that most scribes don't wear power armor. It's mostly saved for the paladins. But I did attend the class and was given an old suit so I could protect the Arlington Library in emergencies sparing the paladins for more important tasks. I don't have a lot of experience in power armor but enough that I can pull a plow without injuring myself. Lucky me! At least a frame isn't as hot to wear as a full suit.

I've heard of raider bosses here in the Commonwealth who find suits of prewar power armor and I wonder how many would-be gang leaders have to retire after wrenching their knees out by trying to run in power armor without knowing how to move properly. Without proper training power armor is quite dangerous to the wearer as well as their enemies.

So I hitch a plow to my waist and haul the plow across the field as Bella and Doc Jenna lean on the other end to keep the plowshare in the soil. This takes all afternoon and leaves us all achy and tired and heading directly to the bar.

With some space left on my holotape I ask the bartender Tom if he'd like to tell his story as well.

"Hah, you think future generations want to know about me? I'm Tom. No fancy title, just a plain Tom. Thomas Atterly. Lived on a farm with my family, turned to brewing since that pays better. Moved to Goodneighbor but that town has more brewers than it needs so there wasn't much market. So when we heard on the radio about a new settlement we moved up here, I and my parents. I know how to make beer and distill spirits, I can keep a still from exploding or producing poison, I can cook and I can shoot. It's a fine job to have in this fine settlement and I support my parents so they can do some easy farming work. I've done quite well, thank you for asking."

In time for dinner the General is back, much happier than she left because she was able to free the kidnapping victim unharmed and most of the raiders ran away.


	66. New Faces

Begin Recording

New Faces

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Dear brother and sister scribes, the story we've been listening to on these tapes has been very intense, and I have it on good authority it will get worse before it gets better. But the settlement where I'm recording is just the opposite. Sanctuary is a very cheerful place. People complain a lot but they help each other and try to fix things. We should not encourage argument with commanding officers and having children underfoot in the Brotherhood, but for a civilian settlement it is a lot of fun.

The odd troop has returned from clearing out a raider camp. I'm distracted by the return of Cait, who is a very attractive woman and who I'm too scared to speak to, so I didn't notice the oddity that Percy is carrying all of his gear in his hands. He puts it all down, takes off his backpack and pulls out three puppies.

"Mamadog must've been one of the ones that wouldn't stop trying to eat us, but maybe we can save these? Are they big enough?"

There is a mass cooing from everybody who's around. The puppies are big enough to be squirming and whining and they're very cute. There is some discussion over who will take them home, which Shaun Mason wins by reminding Kaynah that small puppies need help going to the bathroom. The others decide they'll just visit.

Shaun says he has to set up a pen and I offer to help him. He has a plan, hauling a grungy mattress into the main room of the General's house and setting up a few crates to make a fence so the little squirmers are contained. I help with the heavy lifting and Shaun directs. Kaynah comes back with a pail of milk fresh from the brahmin and Jimmy's got leftover stew and we mash it up to make gruel. The puppies dig in.

"I see you've all done this before." I guess. "Will the General be ok with finding her furniture moved around and extra dogs in her house when she gets back tonight?"

"She won't mind." Shaun says confidently. "They won't be here for very long. Gene the dog trainer will come take them to the Castle to train them to be Minutemen guard dogs."

"Is that where all your dogs come from?" I ask. There are half a dozen dogs in Sanctuary, though I only know the names of the two friendliest.

The boy flops belly-down on a crate, watching the puppies slurp up their gruel. "Mmhm. Mom always wants to bring back raider dogs if she can catch them and sometimes we can tame them or Gene can. He's nice. I wish he lived here instead so we could have more dogs. Whoops, here's Goliath!"

The massive brown and black dog nudges her way between the crates, dumping Shaun to the ground so she can greet the new members of her kind. She gives the puppies a thorough sniffing and some licks, and lies down to let the puppies snuggle up to her then looks up at us with a doggy grin. Kaynah sits down to rub Goliath around the ears, telling her she's the best good dog.

Shaun says, "Goliath's the first dog from Gene, before I even came here. She's Dogmeat's girlfriend! They had a romantic dog meeting!" he hoots with laughter, and the other kids laugh and Jimmy says dogs don't do romance.

Coincidentally, the day after I learn how Sanctuary gets its dogs, I see an example of how it gets its people.

I've heard that there was a radio beacon in the past, but by now everybody in the Commonwealth knows that there are farming villages where people can settle down in a pretty good situation if they're willing to work for it. I'm surprised there isn't a flood of volunteers, but it seems the amount of work necessary and the dusty handmade look of the settlements keeps the population down. Tom the bartender says, "And Diamond City is a famous place with a famous Wall! We've got no upper stands to aspire to either, and we've got more rules than Goodneighbor. In Goodneighbor if you don't want to work you'll be left to starve, here you'll be fed but made to work however you can help."

So settlers trickle in slowly, from outside the Commonwealth or from the larger settlements. Or in stranger ways. Baby Boomer's arrival was a more dramatic variation of a fairly common occurrence. Word has gone around the raider gangs that they can drop off children or babies at any settlement and they'll be taken in.

I am on watch, the early morning shift widely considered the worst of the day. Everyone has to take a turn to grant that no one has to do it more often than necessary.

The watchtowers are on top of the houses, this one just behind the bridge into Sanctuary. they're well designed, with sandbags to lean on and an uncomfortable chair to prevent dozing off. Water and snacks are even provided. Not all watchtowers have a terminal but this one does, connected to the gen-one synth brain and eyes that run the turrets.

It's just after dawn and I'm looking forward to the end of my watch, and breakfast, when I see movement out in the wasteland. Human movement; a lone traveler bowed with something on its back.

Whoever it is hasn't set of alarms at the caravan camp but I hit a few keys to make the siren whoop the warning signal. The sleepy morning bustle rises in volume as people hurry to their posts, some hesitating to grab breakfast along the way.

The visitor is moving slowly and the turrets swing in his direction but don't open fire. The synth brain that runs them is programmed to detect hostility and it doesn't think this guy is trouble. I put my rifle up to see through the scope. It's a man dressed like a raider carrying a child on his back.

I holler this information down to the settlers congregating below and from the murmur that rises I gather this is not an unheard-of event. The only experience I've had of it involved land mines and I hope today's visit doesn't.

The traveler stops and waves an attempt at a white flag. Through my scope he looks like a raider: spiked hair, leather vest, and the kind of skinny that comes from too much jet.

"Hey! Hello! I want to talk to your boss!" Comes faintly to my ears.

I point to the spot on the other side of the bridge, in range of all the turrets. He comes forward cautiously still waving the flag.

A few more guards are on my side of the bridge with weapons in hand but lowered. I look back and there's the General hurrying down the street obviously just out of bed because she's putting her hair up as she walks, with a helmet tucked under her arm. She gets to the bridge, plops her helmet on her head and smiles easily. "I'm here. You need help? We have a doctor here."

"The baby got bit. Dog was foaming. Heard you help kids."

Doc Jenna steps up, "How long ago was the bite? Is she sick yet?"

"Last night. I walked all night."

"Plenty of time."

The child isn't a baby, it's a girl who could be Shiloh's age but she's stick thin. About what I'd have expected from a kid raised in a raider camp. Her leg is bandaged and standing she totters with a stick.

Em says, "You can come into town… without your weapons. We're kind; we're not fools. What's your name and hers?"

"I'm Brick." The raider says. He puts down a pistol and a knife and submits to a pat-down. "We just call her Baby. She was a baby and there weren't any others."

The General finds no other weapons. She picks up the knife and pistol and makes a face at their shoddy quality. Even from my perch I know a cheap pipe pistol when I see one! Doc Jenna brought a carry chair so the child gets to ride into Sanctuary in style.

Someone calls, "Hey Scribe!" My replacement is here! I happily surrender the watch post, climb down and stretch and go get breakfast.

Brick has joined the line for food, gawking around at everything. As impressed as he is by the food, I'm impressed by something else. "You… you have a cure for rabies?" I sputter.

The General is filling her plate. She smiles ruefully. "_We_ don't. _The Institute_ does, but they've promised to keep us supplied here in the settlements because we provided the original sample they made the vaccine from. From Dogmeat, believe it or not. The first time he got bit I loaded him up with stimpacks and cried a lot since I knew they wouldn't save him… but he didn't get sick. The second and third time I worried less, and eventually Doc Jenna tested his blood and found out he's immune. But we can't make vaccines up here so I told Doctor Holdren and he didn't believe me and then he said if that was true he'd give anything to look at that blood. He used those antibodies to train human antibodies and now we have a vaccine. I wish I could get enough to trade but at least we're protected."

Brick shakes his head like he can't believe it. He looks very out of place with his overdone hair and skinny bare chest surrounded by the better dressed, more solidly built settlers. He takes a plate and fills it up with porridge and jam and the slimy but protein-packed nuggets of radroach meat. "You all eat like this every day?"

"Mmhm." The General nods. "Most days, leaner in the winter. Food, clean water, clean beds, medical care, protection, and schooling. In exchange, work, hours every day to keep all those things available. And the rules: don't take what isn't yours, ask or trade or borrow. What willing adults do together is their business but any hint they aren't willing it becomes all our business. And everyone works and everyone trains. The Minutemen help each other and we have to be ready for action. That's what it would look like, if you want to stay. Baby can stay whether or not you do, we'll find a family to take her in and she'll get an education and a safe place to live."

The gobsmacked raider says hesitantly, "What about… chems?"

"If you can do your job and keep the jet, you can keep the jet. You have to pay for it but you'll be able to. If you want to get off it we have a good doc who's got enough chems… _in a locked safe_… to help you get clean without withdrawal taking you out."

"Hmm. Um. Camping in the auto plant hitting caravans. Waiting to be shot. Crazy boss. It's not very nice. This might be nicer. Might stay a while."

Someone in the group says something about learning to talk properly.

From here I can see the kids have gathered outside the hospital and are calling through the window at the newcomer. Shiloh hollers, "We have someone named Baby Boomer, maybe you could have a nickname? You can pick it!" Which is apparently what she finds important in this situation.

Em looks over at her daughter and shakes her head. "Shiloh…"

"Do you get a lot of raiders and kids moving in?" I ask.

"Plenty. Brick, you'll probably run into people from your old gang. Mostly adults though; Doc Jenna could talk for an hour about why the raider lifestyle doesn't lead to a lot of healthy pregnancies."

Between bites Brick offers, "Her mama died to bad jet. Not sure I'm her papa, but I like her. Someone has to mind the baby."

"We've got plenty of people for that. And lots of babies so she'll have lots of friends. Very determined friends. Shiloh! Give the kid a break, poor thing just got here! Come get food and get to school and bring your brother."

Shiloh argues but she doesn't have quite the volume to be heard all the way over here, so she and the other kids come slouching over to start the day.


	67. Under The Sky

Begin Recording

Under the Sky

Recording by Scribe Ellison

My son was waiting on the roof of the CIT building. He'd gotten appropriate clothes, leather trousers and a coat and hood patched together from prewar fabric. The clothes were right, but Shaun still looked transplanted from another time.

The weather was threatening; big dark clouds had blown in overnight and hung heavy over the ruins. I was a little late since I couldn't find the scaffolding that led up to the roof, and Dogmeat and I had to skirt around a bunch of dead super mutants all over the ruins. Dogmeat sniffed around the roof while I waved and walked to join my son at the edge. "Were you waiting? I'm sorry."

"Not long. You know, in all my years I've never set foot outside the Institute. Not once, since the day they brought me here. I've never had a reason."

I don't know why that startled me. "You didn't want to see..?"

"Seeing it now just confirms the truth I've always known. The Commonwealth is dead. There's no future here. The only hope for humanity lies below. Standing here, I'm reminded of how fortunate I am that I was spared a life in this wasteland."

A cold wind swept the rotting mud stink of the river at us and I wrinkled my nose. "This isn't the Commonwealth's best side. Are you ok to walk a little, just over the bridge and into the ruins? If we're lucky we'll meet up with Carla, she's heading back to Diamond City today."

"I must admit I don't understand. Why Diamond City? I would have thought you'd want to show me the town you built."

I did want to show him Sanctuary, wanted it so bad it ached. But… "I want to show you the one _you_ built. Is it safe for you to meet people? If I had to get a medical check before I came in..."

"Oh. No, that doesn't matter."

I whistled for Dogmeat and we went down the scaffolding from the roof. I gestured at a pile of scorched super mutants. "Your welcoming committee?"

"Justin insisted on sending a courser up to scout for threats before I visited the surface."

"One courser? Damn." I said without thinking, feeling a wave of greed. To take out a super mutant nest without risking lives. A place like this would take a week or two of scouting, trying to get a count of the mutants, probably a map drawn up in the situation room in the Castle to pick the best attack point for each troop. And we might still lose people.

"Unfortunately I can only justify assigning X6-88 to assist you on Institute business." Shaun said, and I had to take a deep breath so I wouldn't say something really angry. If wiping out super mutants was this easy the only reason they were still killing people in the ruins was that my own son just… hadn't thought of it.

Carla's brahmin was still plodding down the road but she'd stopped to look at the massacre. She said, "Are they all dead? I'll make space on this idiot and clean the place out! Come back with me and keep watch, General? I'll give you first choice if I find any books!"

I smiled. "I'd be glad to, if I haven't been called away to some emergency before you come back. Hey, my friend and I are headed for Diamond City, we'll tag along behind you all right?"

"Sure, whatever you'd like. Always good to have a dog along!"

Dogmeat knows about hiking with a caravan, he ranged out in front of the brahmin and came back every so often to check on us.

The road to Diamond City was quieter than I'd ever seen it. Nothing moved, even the distant gunshots were silent. There are a couple of buildings nearby that attract raiders. They aren't always inhabited; raider gangs move or split up or just implode pretty often so it wasn't totally unexpected for it to be so quiet, but I still said, "Courser?"

"Probably. I didn't ask Justin how large a perimeter he planned."

"You all right to walk this far?" I asked.

"Doctor Volkert designs exercise regimens for everyone. We can't afford to be sedentary intellectuals." A ghost of a smile. "By the way, Clayton is favorably impressed with the quality of reports he's getting. We didn't expect farmers to be able to read much less use a soil testing meter."

"Most people out here can read at least a little. Any group stable enough will educate its kids, find a wandering teacher and offer him a bed and food in exchange for passing on what he knows."

"And where do these teachers get their information?" My son asked, sounding skeptical.

"Prewar books. Experience. We may not have lots of equipment but the scientific method works for everybody."

"Not fast enough to save this civilization, I fear. How is Mr. Warwick doing?"

I shrugged. "He's a wreck. Afraid to sleep, afraid to let his wife and son out of his sight. The doctor at the farm diagnosed him with a nervous breakdown so he has a little time to get it together before someone suggests that he may be a synth. It'll be some time before we know what Doctor Holdren's experiment cost."

Shaun seemed to think about that. Anyone would've been shocked, and guilty about what might still occur, but my son was practiced in never looking anything but calm and wise.

We followed Carla and her brahmin through the empty ruins past the first sign for Diamond City. A guard called, "Welcome, Miss Carla! General! Good to see you! Weird today, too quiet. Gate's closed. Someone will be at the intercom."

Carla waved, "Thank you!"

The gate was indeed closed, the huge slab of iron firmly shut. A couple of guards were stationed outside, looking twitchier than usual. "Something stopped the raiders shooting. Raiders're always shooting."

I looked sideways at my son, who shrugged slightly. How many coursers had Ayo sent out to make sure the Director was safe on his visit to Diamond City? And if this was all it took to clear out the raider gangs from the ruins I was very angry it hadn't been done before. Or maybe the different gangs were trying to work together, that happened and made the shooting stop, following by lots more shooting when the alliance fell apart. Or a deathclaw could have wandered into the city. That happened too, according to Piper. So maybe it was a coincidence.

Carla didn't look worried. She turned on the intercom. "This is Carla, with a full load on my brahmin. Brought along the General herself, with her guest and Mister Dogmeat."

The speaker crackled back, "Say something, General. Guards're twitchier than usual."

I stepped forward, "It's me, Danny. Got some errands to run, and wanted to show my friend the 'great green jewel.' I vouch for him."

Carla grumbled, "So open up!"

"You got it, Carla! Go see Myrna right away, wouldya? She's out of… I'm not sure what but she thinks you'd trade some! Now stand back!"

We did, with Dogmeat scooting up to the brahmin's forelegs to encourage it to step back. There were some clanks and rasps from behind the wall and the gate swung up. I found myself smiling again, every time I see that thing open or close it brightens my spirits. It's such a big obvious sign of what people working together can build. I was hoping Shaun would see it that way.


	68. Visit

Begin Recording

Visit

Recording by Scribe Ellison

On her box, Nat saw me and waved both arms over her head. "Em!"

"Hi Nat! What's the news?"

"No scandals today so it's part two of Piper's article on Quincy. Here Mister, visiting Diamond City? Keep up with the latest news! You can have one too. Wait here a minute ok?" Nat hopped down and raced inside.

I read the headline: _Beyond __Quincy__: The Fall and Rise of the Minutemen_. Preston would want a copy to put on the wall in the Castle so I'd have to be back and see if Nat had any leftovers later.

Nat was back with a letter. "Can you give this to Lucy Abernathy? We're writing a book with letters, like Dracula but in ours the vampires are the good guys. Piper says she'll serialize it in the paper but not until it's finished."

"I'll look forward to reading it." I tucked the letter with my newspaper in my backpack. "Is your sister in Diamond City?"

"She's around someplace, she was talking to the caravans about buying more blank paper. Hi Dogmeat!" Dogmeat had caught up with us and demanded Nat deliver ear-scratches. "Who's the old guy?"

Shaun, who could absolutely hear that, smiled faintly. I wondered what he made of Nat, with her layered clothes and fierce smile and declaration that she was writing a book. They're still writing it to this day, by the way, and by now it has a vampire lord with a deathclaw army attacking Diamond City.

I said, "Just a friend from one of the settlements. It's his first time in Diamond City so I'm making him follow me around. Catch you later."

We left Nat to go back to hawking papers with Dogmeat lounging at her feet.

All Faiths Chapel was filled with the warm light of candles. They're made from brahmin tallow and herbs so the smell suggests backyard barbecues rather than anything spiritual, at least in my mind. I don't mention this. The chapel was quiet, only us and two people talking quietly in the back pews. Pastor Clements was sweeping the floor meditatively but looked up when we entered. "General, good to see you."

I handed over a bag of caps. "Tithe. If you're talking to the man upstairs, tell him I didn't want to shoot all those raiders."

"This week already I've heard a solid, and very long, argument that the 'man upstairs' is in fact a woman. But I'll pass on your message and give this to Mister Zwicky for textbooks." He turned to Shaun, "Haven't seen you around before. This is the All Faiths Chapel. Always open, anytime you need to talk to whoever you think is up there or somebody down here. Donations are not expected unless you're a general trying to help out without causing politics between the Minutemen and Diamond City."

Shaun looked at me sharply but he just said, "I'm afraid I am firmly skeptical and have little use for matters of faith."

"It might be bad for business but I applaud that attitude. People around here are a little too quick to believe every bit of news they hear. At least things have been quiet lately, maybe the Institute's decided to reflect on its ways." The pastor chuckled.

"The Institute?" My son asked innocently.

"You must be from outside the Commonwealth, sir. The Institute's our boogeyman. They built synths, humanoid robots, and instead of stepping back and solemnly pondering if machines that can't be told from human are perhaps human enough to have souls of their own, they went straight to replacing people with them. People are afraid to go to bed at night, wondering if the Institute is going to switch them with a double. Or if the loved one they went to sleep next to is going to be different when they wake up. It weighs on the soul. Of my flock, of this city—of the synths, even."

I hadn't known that. "You've met synths, Pastor?"

"One or two. Came to ask me whether or not they have souls, as if that's a question I could answer for them. If a synth can recognize itself as an individual, long for a better life, and care for more than just itself, what more would you look for in search of a soul?"

I offered, "I think that's an answer even skeptics like us can believe in." I hope there's more, of course I do. I hope somebody up there is watching over us and that when I die I'll see Nate and my parents again, but that's not something I'll know until I get there.

Outside we found Carla's brahmin standing placidly in the street by Myrna's stall. Myrna was saying, "Are you sure you're the real Carla?"

"Same as I've ever been." Carla replied.

"Say something only you would know. What's your brahmin's name?"

"Hasn't got one. Never bothered to give it one." Carla spotted us and assured Shaun, "Don't mind crazy Myrna, she's always like this. Don't let her spoil your visit."

Myrna scowled. "I'm not crazy, I'm careful! When the Institute comes after you you'll wish you'd listened!"

"Sure sure, you want to trade or not?"

I scooted around the brahmin and beckoned, "Let's not hang around; Myrna will definitely think you're a synth."

Shaun asked, "She seems to think that of everyone. Why me in particular?"

"Your hair is neat, your beard is trimmed and you have all your teeth. She suspected me for that too."

Shaun didn't reply to that but his hand came up to his face. We walked around the market a while. My errands were just an excuse to be here and look at things, but I traded some ammo with Arturo, let Becky Fallon talk me into overpaying for a couple of clean prewar shirts for Preston, and gave Doctor Sun a package from Doc Jenna. She used to be a traveling doctor and wanted to keep in touch after settling down in Sanctuary.

After our slow walk around the market we sat down at the bar at Power noodles, at the end by the noisy cooking stuff where we wouldn't be overheard. It was late afternoon, not quite the dinner crowd but the few who got off work early were trickling in. Takahashi said, "Nani shimashouka?" and I hand over two bowls' worth of caps.

"You don't have to eat it." I told Shaun when he looked at his meal with great uncertainty.

"What is it?"

"Razorgrain flour, beef broth, fat and salt. It tastes better than it sounds." I demonstrated proper chopstick technique.

"This food has no nutritional value."

"You don't eat it all the time. It's comfort food."

"The child did mention enjoying this when he lived in Diamond City." He tried a bite. "It's not bad." He ate a few more bites before putting his bowl aside. "I don't understand what you wanted me to see by being here."

I wasn't sure myself. Wanting him to come here had been an impulse, more felt than thought. "I wanted you to see… the people. See that they are people."

"I do know that people are people."

"No you don't, or you wouldn't approve killing them. I've talked to Doctor Virgil about the FEV program. It continued thirty years after it hit a dead end. How many test subjects? How many people have those mutants killed?" I was angry, but a rush of steam from some part of the noodle-making process muffled my words.

"The aim of the project was to refine a strain of FEV that granted the benefits without the concurrent loss of intellect. My predecessor learned of a society of intelligent super mutants out west and believed those might be the future of mankind."

"Not kidding about the whole 'redefined' thing. Are there really intelligent mutants?" Virgil had designed a virus to keep his mind intact and it hadn't worked. If he was the Institute's best they hadn't even gotten close.

"Several sources say they exist."

Even here worrying about everything about having my son here in the middle of Diamond City, I felt a rush of wonder. What would a mutant society be like? Just like human society or would they be something new? Could I ever meet them? Maybe I could learn something about our mutants.

Piper found us there. I saw her walk out from behind a behind Swatters, looking down at a piece of paper in her hand. She looked up and saw me, saw someone was with me, and went white under her tan. I've been next to Piper in all kinds of dangerous situations and I've never seen her look so scared.

She pulled her hat down low and headed straight for us. I snagged another stool for her. Piper barely looked at me, enough to make me sure I was all right, then looked at my son, sitting on his stool with calm around him like a halo. "...you're him."

"I suppose I am." Shaun looked at me.

"This is Piper. She's..."

"The reporter." Shaun nodded.

"My best friend." I finished, hoping the title might grant some protection.

I'm not sure Piper even really heard it, but she did turn back into Piper, the hesitation vanishing as she grinned her fierce reporter grin. "So, can I ask you a few questions?"

I had not wanted this to happen. Honestly, I'd hoped Piper would be on the road so this wouldn't happen, but I hadn't chosen the day.

But Shaun just looked curious, like Piper was a strange new specimen. Actually… even non-scientists have that reaction to Piper sometimes. So I definitely twitched a bit but I didn't say anything.

"Certainly." My son said with the same gentle smile he always gave me.

Piper twitched a little herself, probably sure this was a trap and not happy that Shaun knew anything about her, but she went for it. "Why did a synth come here and shoot everybody?"

"What synth? When?"

"Don't pretend you don't know! Fifty-some years ago a synth sat down to eat here just like we're doing and then it malfunctioned and went berserk! Shot half a dozen people. It's called the Broken Mask Incident. What really happened?"

Like a coward, I took a bite of my noodles and waited for an answer to the question I hadn't ever asked.

My son shook his head apologetically. "I don't know what happened, I don't think anyone does. I was very young at the time of course, and the reports conflict with one another. The synth wasn't ready for field testing but someone broke protocols and sent it to the surface. It was so long ago that anyone who could have been involved is dead. Does it even matter now?"

Piper flinched and had to take a breath before her next question, "What happened to the Commonwealth Provisional Government?"

"From what I read… It wasn't working. It was a chaotic mess and causing more conflict than it solved."

"So you decided to kill everybody?"

"I was a toddler at the time. But yes, the Director decided that was the only way to maintain stability in the Commonwealth."

Piper gaped. "That's..."

"It is not the solution that we would use today."

He didn't realize Piper was choking on rage, if she hadn't been so scared she would've been shouting. Fear and—she'd planned this, planned the questions to ask if she ever had a chance. So she smiled an almost-real smile and said, "That was all my questions." She stood up and added, "I'm the writer of Publick Occurrences. Just me. My sister doesn't know anything, and she's only fourteen. Thank you for speaking with me." Piper gave me a look somewhere between sympathy and pleading, and turned away.

Shaun looked at me. "Was your friend frightened?"

"She thinks you're going to have her killed and wants to save her sister."

Shock. He turned to look after Piper. "Then why..?"

"For Piper it's worth it to learn the truth." I turned on my stool to face the rest of the market. "This is the Diamond City I wanted you to see."

The daylight had faded just enough. All the lights came on, flickering and crackling for a moment. Takahashi said, "Ban-gohan!" and started filling cups at double speed and frying up strips of meat to add for anyone who wanted to pay extra.

Nat ran past with Dogmeat at her heels, shouting, "I'll turn it in tomorrow Mr. Zwicky!" and turning with no loss of volume to, "Sheng, did you find it? I want to try..."

Someone turned the radio on and soon people were singing along to _Uranium Fever_ with more enthusiasm than pitch.

Moe Cronin came by, "Hey Miss General, wanna explain the 'real' rules of baseball to me again?"

"Some other time, Moe. Come up to Sanctuary sometime and you can play in a game—by our rules, not yours."

"Your rules, pfft!" Moe went on to get his dinner.


	69. Where I Stand

Begin Recording

Where I Stand

Recording by Scribe Ellison

When the market got too rowdy my son still hadn't mentioned needing to go home so we climbed up to a spot in the stands—on the roof of Kellogg's house, actually—where someone had left some airplane seats. Nat said it was a makeout spot but she was still at the stage of spying on people making out rather than making out herself. There was nobody up here but a single guard, wearing sunglasses so it was probably Deacon but he was staying out of earshot. I leaned forward and folded my arms on the rusty metal safety rail and watched the market below. Diamond City after dark isn't Goodneighbor after dark, but there are lights and there's usually someone in high enough spirits to dance to the radio.

"Is this the best face of the Commonwealth?" My son asked. He didn't lean on the rail, he was sitting like he was trying to touch the chair as little as possible.

"I think so." I said. It was the best I could offer.

"This city may have some superficial charm but it's dying, you know. Every person down there is damaged by radiation. Shortened lifespan, low birthrate… in a few generations this city will be empty."

I sighed, failure not really a surprise. So there was no heat in my voice when I said, "They're alive now. What happens in a few generations doesn't matter to them."

"Their lives now are miserable, and would serve a better purpose creating a bright future for those who have one. It's that future I hoped to talk to you about."

This had the sound of a planned speech. I turned to look at my son. "Hmm?"

"The Institute is on the verge of becoming truly self-sufficient. An upgrade to the reactor, Allie and the facilities division is handling it, but would like your help in locating some of the necessary components. The Institute will no longer be in danger of power failures. But there are other threats to our security and I would very much like to deal with them before I… no longer can."

I knew it was coming. I waited.

"The Railroad has been bold lately. Many of our surface assets are disappearing and even Ayo's coursers haven't been able to find them. The Railroad poses a threat that must be neutralized."

I just sighed. I'd been braced for it for weeks. "You want me to wipe out the Railroad."

"I wouldn't ask you to do it yourself; we have coursers for that. We just need a location for the local leadership. I know it's a difficult thing to ask, but those few deaths will cut out the heart of the organization so any other agents will no longer be a threat."

"I won't." I said into the night air. "And I can't. The Railroad leader asked me to destroy the Institute, and when I wouldn't do it they moved headquarters and lay down strict orders about how any members could meet with me. Des- they were afraid you'd have me tortured."

"They told you to attack the Institute?"

I waited for the no-I-wouldn't-have-you-tortured but I don't think that registered. That got a tired chuckle out of me. "You and the boss of the Railroad have something in common. Everybody wants to get their self-defense in first and wants me to handle it. But I'm not going to kill you, or Allie or Rosalind, and especially not Quentin and the twins and the boy synth. Even Doctor Holdren. You're people and some of you have done awful things but you can learn better. Your Institute could do so much good for the Commonwealth, I won't be part of throwing that away. And I won't kill the Railroad because they're people, and they're helping a group that nobody else will help. They're making sure synths don't have to be a danger to themselves and others."

The words felt so good but my son just smiled patiently. "You really think you can save the Commonwealth."

"No, I just… I don't want to take one more step towards dooming it. And I think it wouldn't need saving if all you idiots would quit trying to murder each other and just _talk_! If one of you would just _try_..."

In the end I was begging, the last thing anyone can do. But Shaun just watched the city below and didn't say anything. The silence between us went from tense to comfortable after a while.

Eventually, at nearly midnight when even Diamond City quiets down I said, "We should probably call it a night. Everyone's going to worry if you stay topside too long."

Shaun chuckled a little. "For the first time ever. Will you come back down?"

"Nah, I have a bed at Piper's and she probably needs reassurance that no one's coming after her. No one _is_, right?"

"There has never been a proposal to eliminate Miss Wright, her family, or her paper. I would not approve one if it were brought up. We'd just be… proving her right." The pause had been an instant too long, there had been a thought there. But my son just continued, "This visit has been most instructive. Until next time, Mother."

And he vanished, without the light show that happened when I used the molecular relay.


	70. New Toy

**I wrote the final chapter, and celebrated by staying up late eating potato chips and playing Dark Fall: Ghost Vigil. Bethesda's great, but there's something cozy about a classic point-n-click adventure game! But then I got a few more ideas for chapters. So you all get a few more postgame chapters before we return to the increasingly emotional main story.**

Begin Recording

New Toy

Recording by Scribe Ellison

An early morning vertibird landing has delivered a new toy for the doctor. Half the settlement is gathered around outside the hospital watching through the windows as Sturges and his apprentices set it up. There are no patients under care at the moment so the windows are all open.

Doc Jenna is hugging herself in delight. "This is just what I need for Maya, a bioscanner bed that works vertically or horizontally. Ok, who wants to help test it? Want to see your bones?"

I ask, "Where did it come from?"

The General grins. "Fell off the back of the Prydwen."

"What?"

From where he's checking wiring Sturges calls, "That means we stole it!"

"We didn't _steal it_ steal it. The Brotherhood cleaned out a hospital and they found four of these and I bribed proctor Teagan to sell us one and report that they found only three. We need one of these more than the Brotherhood needs four of them."

That is probably true. I'm grateful that matters of salvage rights are not my responsibility.

The day's work will not wait so I can only wander past the hospital to see the new equipment occasionally. On my first pass Shiloh is sitting very still in front of the panel of the machine, only her darting eyes betraying her impatience. Doc Jenna is saying, "Amazing. I know you have synth parts and I even know where they are, but I can't see a thing."

"Can I see yet?"

"Yes, come see."

Shiloh scoots around and lets out an excited squeal, "My bones! I know all the names!" She lists off a few vertebrae then asks, "You're going to take lots of pictures of my bones aren't you?"

"Yep. You and every synth we know, just in case we can find a safe way to find who's a synth."

Somber now Shiloh echoes, "Just in case."

The next time the new machine is put to use it's obvious to everyone in town, because Maya Long protests at full toddler volume. Between wails I hear her mother say, "You need a new leg baby, you gotta let the doctor measure you."

Maya just wails, "Don't wannaaaaaa!" too upset and too young to explain why.

Shiloh crouches down to get face to face with the crying child. "You can see your bones! How 'bout if we bring Dogmeat, he wants to see his bones too."

"The doc doesn't want a messy dog in her hospital." Marci says and Shiloh scowls, her baby-taming attempt thwarted.

I ask about this later and find that poor Maya's prosthetic leg makes quite a lot of work. She's growing fast, and growing with legs of different lengths will not be healthy so she needs new legs regularly. Sturges talks about making something with a locking screw mechanism that can be lengthened by millimeters as needed. He also has to make feet, a whole new set of challenges. The foot itself is made of rubber reclaimed from the tires that litter the Commonwealth, but there's a whole process to make it soft enough to carve a foot from. Sturges does that himself with measurements of Maya's other foot.

An uncomfortable question comes to mind. "If the Institute has such great medical technology..."

Sturges shrugs. "Em tried to convince them to help since it was a rogue synth that took Maya's leg in the first place, but no dice. Unless it's a spreading plague, our problems are not the Institute's problem. But since the _Institute_ isn't our problem anymore, I'll take it!" Sturges says cheerfully.


	71. Robot

**Not until checking the wiki for this chapter did I find his name is actually Codsworth like an actual name not Cogsworth like a real name with a pun about cogs and wheels like I assumed. It feels too late to bother changing it 70 chapters in.**

Begin Recording

Robot

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Dear brother and sister scribes, thank you for sending questions with the last caravan. So many questions. Perhaps Miss Moira Brown should come ask her questions in person since she has so many. She would fit right in.

One of you asked a very perceptive question: with all the confusion over the humanity of synths, how are robots treated? I'm afraid there's no dramatic answer. Robots in the Commonwealth are treated just as they are in the capital. They do what they are programmed to do. The General tells me, rather apologetically, that she doesn't understand the complex programming issues so she simply judges that any being able to articulate its wishes should have those wishes considered if not always granted. She used simpler terms but that's the basic theory. Anything that acts like a person should be treated as one.

There are no permanent robot residents in Sanctuary at the moment but that seems to be by chance rather than the permanent state of affairs. Some of the settlements have permanent protectron guards or Mister Handies as farmers. And several Handies work as provisioners transporting resources between the settlements.

One of these provisioners is Cogsworth, the General's robot from before the war. I discover this surprisingly when he sails up main street leading a pack brahmin. The people descend on the brahmin to unload it and the robot stretches its three arms in a very human gesture and sails over to the yellow house where one of Sturges' apprentices is ready to offer a tune-up and refill of ammunition.

The kids turn up because they turn up everywhere that something new is happening. That's when I realize which robot this is, because they greet him by name.

"Young Master Shaun! Miss Shiloh! How are you doing? Keeping up on your studies?"

"Yes, cogsworth." The two of them chorus in perfect unison.

Little Maya demands, "Ride!"

"My pleasure Miss Maya, as soon as my oil levels and filters have been checked."

The engineers banter with the robot while doing his tune-up and I ask the kids, "Is that the same Cogsworth your mother mentioned?"

"Mmhm. he's really old!"

"He remembers the other Shaun, he thinks I'm him." Shaun says, "And he knows a lot of stuff about before the war."

"But it's all about cleaning things before the war!"

Cogsworth is using one of his arms to touch up his paint job, the Minutemen logo proudly on his round central body.

I have to catch Cogsworth and ask him questions. Of course every Mister Handy around is from before the war but few of them retain all of their programming and data from so long ago. The only one I've met is the medic Gutsy Sawbones at the Citadel, but it had to be reprogrammed because its prewar personality had broken down.

But first Cogsworth finishes his tune-up and takes Maya for a ride, letting her hang off his arms on one side and blasting up so she leaves the ground in long wobbly jumps.

I do get to talk to Cogsworth later on. I find him pulling weeds, the tiny sprouts that are such a pain in the neck to get. He greets me, "Hello young sir! I hear you have come to collect information."

"Um, that's right. I came to ask people in the Commonwealth about their stories so we can learn from each other. Would you like to tell me about yourself?"

"Certainly! I am a Mister Handy unit, the pride of General Atomics and RobCo Industries, programmed for domestic service with add-ons for cooking, gardening and childcare: infant and toddler. Childcare: teenager was a complex and expensive program that was considered unnecessary at the time, a decision I now feel was an oversight. I am pleased to use my programming to make home life more comfortable for my family of six hundred eighty-one people. I have one hundred and eighty houses in my care."

I know Handies are programmed for enthusiasm but Cogsworth sounds really proud.

"You take care of that many houses?"

"Indeed! Not all at the same time of course. I travel between settlements helping each household set up properly spic and span! With Abraxo cleaner and plenty of elbow grease even the most unlikely structure can become a comfortable home! And I must say some of them are _very_ unlikely. I also advise on proper hygiene, housekeeping and gardening."

I'm not sure how to ask the question. "With all the synths getting their freedom do you want to be treated as a person too?"

"Heavens no! Free will seems like a terrible burden, begging your pardon sir. I do not understand why my synth cousins are so attached to the idea! I prefer my neural network just as RobCo intended."

I smile. "So you like your job?"

"Yes indeed! I am of use to Mistress Emily and Young Master Shaun and our very large family. Now, would you like to hear about proper housekeeping? I have a large volume of data on everything from cleaning linoleum floors to putting up curtains. You may need a whole empty holotape."


	72. See You Standing

**It took me basically since I started this story to come up with an edit of the final vision that fit. I rewrote it so many times!**

Begin Recording

See You Standing

Recording by Scribe Ellison

One thing my fellow scribes have asked about is Mama Murphy and her 'sight.' Miss Moira Brown has also expressed great curiosity. I will try to ask, when I find her.

The children are winnowing grain today, tossing it in shallow baskets in front of a large bellows that blows away the chaff leaving the grains. The four bigger kids trade off between tossing the grain and working the bellows, keeping a rhythm with the help of Diamond City Radio blasting from a set at their feet. Shiloh points me at where she thinks Mama Murphy is today.

Mama Murphy is out behind the yellow house, under a shade with Baby Boomer and Maya in a little pen next to her, chattering away as they play with blocks and baseballs. Mama Murphy is reading to them from a prewar adventure story, but I'm not sure the little kids are paying much attention.

She looks up when I approach and smiles, her whole face wrinkling up in a way that reminds me of my own grandmother. "Good morning, Scribe. Did you come to ask about your future?"

"Well—not really but… do you _know_ my future?" I sputter.

"Not yet, but I could look. The doc and the General worry too much but they do let me have chems from time to time." she reaches into a pocket and pulls out a dose of jet.

"Are you sure it's ok to take chems around the babies?"

"You're here to watch them."

I am, and they aren't exactly trying to escape. Baby Boomer has dozed off and Maya is building a tower of blocks with great determination. I can certainly watch them for a few minutes while Mama Murphy enjoys her jet. I've tried jet a few times; some of my friends at the Citadel swear by it for sniping. The feeling of time slowing does help, but then later when the fight is over my sense of time gets strange again and once it felt like I'd spent six hours cleaning my teeth, though my fellow initiates assured me it was only a few minutes.

Mama Murphy huffs her jet and stares into the distance, smiling beatifically. Her eyes flick back and forth like she's seeing something. After a few minutes she says, "I see you just as you are, traveling the world and learning from it. You aren't fated for great deeds but the things you learn may sway the destiny of your people. The Brotherhood of Steel is split from within and what sort of tree will grow from that crack no one yet knows."

I immediately want to ask more about the Brotherhood, then skepticism catches up with me. Everything she just said feels deep and true, but anyone could see that I enjoy my mission in the Commonwealth and it's no secret that Elder Maxson brought the people who agree with him on the Prydwen and left the people who don't at the Citadel. Not a strategy calculated to keep our order all on the same page.

So, brother and sister scribes, I did not find irrefutable evidence that Mama Murphy can see the future. It feels like she can. There is an element that cannot be conveyed merely by recording her words. But feelings are not scientific evidence.

I need more data. So I ask around at dinner when everybody is gathered by the firepit where a molerat is turning on a spit.

Sturges says, "She knew about this place, and I swear she knew which of us would survive the trek from Quincy. Just a feeling I had, that she knew most of us wouldn't make it and didn't tell because it broke her heart and she didn't want to break ours too. Mama Murphy uses all her powers whatever they may be, to help people."

Across the picnic table the General says, "She's told me things… you felt it too didn't you? It feels like she sees things but maybe it's just because she believes it."

I ask, "What's the best prediction she ever gave you?"

"Back at the time we were about to drag everybody to a peace conference, I forget exactly when, Mama Murphy came and told me she'd filched some mentats to tell me my future and did I want to hear it. I said yes because you kind of have to and she told me… what was it… _I see you standing… on the edge of a knife. Surrounded by people with outstretched hands, everyone wants to take something and everyone's afraid something will be taken from them. You're the keystone that keeps it all from collapsing._

"Then she was quiet for a minute, looking into space the way she does like she's watching something in the distance. Then she said, _And I see you standing with… the people. All the people, who don't have to be afraid anymore because of you. Because of that, they're yours. But you don't hold them, so they're free to build their own futures. _Then she squished up her eyes and seemed to be straining to see more. I started to tell her that was enough but she had one more prophecy: _It's going to feel like you couldn't save him, but you did. _And the hair on my neck stood up but I made some joke about how I'd rather have a tall dark stranger in my future."

A little stunned I say, "That is so spooky!"

"It really was. But other than the flowery language it's nothing she couldn't have guessed. But it all came true."


	73. Red Truth

Begin Recording

Red Truth

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Piper's hat was on the floor like she'd thrown it. Piper herself was up in the loft, in the chair in front of her terminal, staring into space and not typing. She heard the door and called softly, "That you, Blue?"

The door to Nat's little cubby was closed and Dogmeat lay on the floor outside. He lifted his head and thumped his tail at me then went back to sleep.

I climbed the little stairs and sat on the floor at the top, leaning against the wall.

Piper said, "You all right?"

"I guess. I thought he might see… I don't know. Are _you_ all right?"

Piper laughed a painful little sound and leaned back, her chair creaking. "Dream come true, right? I got to meet the monster under the bed. But it's an old man and he doesn't know anything. I thought if I ever learned what really happened it would help somehow. If we learned the truth about what the Institute wanted we could save ourselves. But you _saw_ the Institute and I just got to interview the guy in charge… and they don't even think about it at all."

She sounded just miserable. I said, "Well we learned a lot of other things and we can use it to make sure the Institute doesn't do anything like that again."

"Heh. You should hope, since _you're_ the one trying to build a new government."

"That had occurred to me." I said, smiling a little since a sarcastic Piper was a big step up from a defeated Piper. "Shaun said they're not coming for you. I believe him. He actually said he didn't want to prove you right. So maybe you can worry just a little less."

A ghost of a smile. "Well that's something." She got up and stretched then sat down next to me at the top of the stairs. We leaned on each other shoulder to shoulder. "Am I really your best friend?"

Faces of my college friends fluttered in front of my eyes and to banish them I teased, "Well, you and Nick. And Preston. You're definitely my best girlfriend. If this were before the war we could go get makeovers and shop for clothes but these days I can say there's no one I'd rather get in trouble with."

"Getting in trouble… it's what folks like us do. Let's do it again tomorrow."


	74. Hold on To

Begin Recording

Hold on To

Recording by Scribe Ellison

It was a week later, and I was back home when I got a holotape in my mailbox. The Institute has white holotapes. I leaned on my front door and listened to it.

"Mother, I have spoken with the division heads about what I saw in Diamond City and your… passionate ideas, and we've come to a tentative agreement. Since we recorded all four hours of the meeting, I'll let you hear the opinions of my division heads in their own words."

There were some clicks and Doctor Li's voice said, "The Brotherhood is an army too stupid to quit. They will hound us forever. If your mother thinks she has a way to avoid that by making some—_some_!—concessions I suggest we at least entertain the proposal. Anything to avoid having my research interrupted by fanatics in power armor for the next ten years."

More clicks as the tape jumped to a new recording then Doctor Holdren said, "Working with the surface dwellers has gone fine so far, I'm dubious about long-term but it's much cheaper in terms of resources. I'm open to discussion."

Doctor Binet's contribution was, "We could learn a lot by observing the gen-three synth line in a wider range of situations. Of course I can't support anything that would deprive us of necessary workers, but if some small changes could help us discover why the synth loss rate is so high, I'm for it."

Allie's voice said, "Your mother knows the surface better than any of us. If she thinks we can do better we should listen to what she has to say. And experiment. We can always cut ourselves off again if it doesn't work."

By this time I was grinning like a fool and sliding down the door of my house to sit on the doorstep—on dog level so Dogmeat and Goliath came over to see what was going on and stick their noses in my face.

My son continued, "Write up a proposal for what you'd like to see and the directorate will consider and discuss. And argue. And see what suggestions are feasible."

He was not wrong about the arguing part. But in the moment there I was, sitting on my doorstep with one hand holding onto the wedding rings on their chain around my neck like I could use them to send a message, "It's all right, Nate, it's all right, it can still be all right..."


	75. Home

**So if McDonough really is only a functional mayor because the Institute is pulling his strings, is it right or wrong to cut him off? Is freedom really best? Em thinks so but maybe she's just been listening to the Railroad too much.**

Begin Recording

Home

Recording by Scribe Ellison

In the end my son wasn't a monster. Once he saw the Commonwealth, the world he'd helped build however unknowingly, he made changes. Slowly, one piece at a time. He had to write directives, and I was surprised when he asked me to help with the wording, though I couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was doing it to humor me. He tightened the rules for collecting test subjects to raiders—or volunteers but getting volunteers would necessitate communicating and nobody wanted to do that yet. And he cut Mayor McDonough loose. Not out of kindness, but because if the mayor no longer had to follow Institute orders he might be able to keep his position and continue to provide information from Diamond City.

McDonough was terrified, I thought the man might have a heart attack when the Director of the Institute walked into his office. Shaun didn't seem to notice, just spoke the way he always did. "The Institute is stepping down operations in Diamond City, including test subject acquisition. You will be expected to continue providing reports on any news of interest as long as you remain mayor, but all other orders are suspended indefinitely. Your shutdown circuit has been disabled."

The mayor stuttered, "What does that mean?"

My son looked a little put out. His patience for surface dwellers was limited to really just me. So I said, "It means no more orders to send people out to get eaten by super mutants because they know too much. No more orders at all. You can live your life."

I had expected this to be good news. Freedom is good news, right? But McDonough managed to get paler. He blustered, "You can't do this to me! The Institute _owes_ me for sixteen years!" The idiot actually drew a pistol on us.

Shaun didn't even blink. Kill chip or not, he could still have dropped the mayor with a recall code and I don't think it occurred to him that a bullet is faster. "You have your position with its income, your life, and your 'freedom.'"

The quotes were clearly audible. I had an idea suddenly, "And an alliance with the Minutemen, if you'd like. We have a few people who managed the Castle back when it was practically a town. You've been mayor all this time; you know how to help Diamond City thrive. And Piper's going to get off your back now."

The mayor managed a sickly little chuckle and lowered the weapon. "That's something. I guess." His gaze sharpened. "Do the Minutemen support the Institute then?"

I answered, "No. Things are… uncertain. The Institute is changing and I'm not sure how things will turn out. Better for all of us I hope, including Diamond City."

We left the mayor to think out his life. Outside, I leaned on the railing above the noise and smoke of Diamond City. Shaun, even dressed as a drifter, looked out of place. He stood wrong, too still and self contained.

"Is that not evidence that synths need a guiding hand? He fell apart."

"That was not what I was expecting." I said with a sigh.

A small smile. "Doubt, Mother?"

"Always. But people want a lawyer who knows what she's doing, so I learned how to look like it. But I wasn't lying. I hope. McDonough couldn't have kept his position without knowing what he was doing so he can do the job for himself." I'd been shaken, though. Was the human McDonough such a worm? He'd figure it out, or he wouldn't. "Do you have to go back now, or do you want to risk market food and stay here? I think Piper's in Goodneighbor tonight, if that makes a difference."

Shaun was looking down with that scientist attitude. McDonough forgotten, observing the ordinary people of the city like they were ants in an anthill. I wondered why he'd bothered to come do this in person, so I asked.

"The boy said it was worth seeing the surface on more than one type of weather. Now, I'd like to visit Sanctuary."

I forgot how uncomfortable I'd been a minute ago. I'd wanted so much for my son to come to Sanctuary, to see what we'd built. It wasn't much compared to the wonders of the Institute but it was something we had in common, building civilizations.

So Shaun came here and walked down the street and saw the gardens and the little market and our animals. Saw how everybody welcomed me and welcomed him as my guest. We both got dinner and sat at one of the picnic tables with everybody.

No one knew who he was, except for Preston who realized immediately and hovered around with a questioning expression until I nodded to him to indicate all was well. Then he at least kept an eye on us from a few tables away.

And Mama Murphy knew. I came back from a run to the latrine to hear her saying, "...depends on you seeing things your whole life has made you blind to. You make a choice, and all you've built vanishes in fire and water right before your eyes, make another choice and it lives on forever."

Shaun didn't answer, just listened skeptically as people often do when Mama Murphy drops a prophecy on them. Seeing me returning Mama Murphy smiled at me and shuffled back to her armchair from which she presided over the meal.

My son gave me a look with eyebrows arched.

"I didn't tell her who you are. Mama Murphy takes chems and has visions and… says things like that."

"You don't believe those stories about powers granted by radiation, do you?"

I shrugged. "Not usually, but Mama Murphy always seems to know what's up. Maybe she really has the sight or maybe she just gets stoned and makes good guesses. What did she tell you?"

My son didn't answer, just asked, "Is every evening here like this?"

"Mmhm."

The sun was setting, painting everything orange. Most of Sanctuary's residents were gathered at the picnic tables or still in line at the cooking station where Tom ladled out soup. Bloatfly meat and tato, just the right amount of spicy, with cornbread on the side. At the table next to us Jimmy ate without looking at his food as he read a comic. Several other people had books, while others had gathered to talk. I heard a debate about the best spacing for mutfruit sprouts, a worried discussion of how to build defenses against airborne enemies, and a whispered debate about which was the most handsome single man at Tenpines. Two tables away there was a burst of squeals and laughter, the nurses begging Doc Jenna to stop describing some gross medical thing over dinner. At another table there was strumming on the stringed instrument optimistically called a guitar. We were in danger of a round of 'Granny's Old Armchair,' the favorite after-dinner song.

It was noisy and cheerful and alive. I turned around on the bench so I could lean back against the table. We sat there for a while, just watching mostly. Dogmeat came over and leaned on my knees. Since I had a guest nobody pulled me into conversation longer than a few quick, "Hey, General..?" questions.

Eventually the sun set and the air started getting chilly. Quietly Shaun asked, "Is there a place we can talk?"

I nodded, and stood up and my son followed me across the street. "This was our house, before the war. I have electricity. Usually I do." The switch on the wall did nothing. The generator was out again. I lit a few smaller lamps, turning up the light to illuminate the living room and kitchen. "Look around if you want. It's not what it was."

I refilled Dogmeat's water dish and started shedding my armor and gun harness, tossing my gear on the couch.

From the hallway I heard, "Even in your own home you have to wear all that?"

"Probably not. We don't get attacked all _that_ often, I'm just so used to wearing it."

Silence, except the sound of Dogmeat flopping down on his bed.

I glanced over to see my son standing in the doorway of his own room. It was embarrassing suddenly. I'd felt like he should see the house, it's his history after all, but the room made over for a ten year old displayed just how much I'd expected to find that little boy. The feeling of my heart being on display was uncomfortable and I stuttered, "When I found out you weren't a baby anymore..." I shrugged. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

In the living room I pulled chairs up to the kitchen island and toggled a lamp to produce heat and put a kettle on top. "Ash blossom leaves, it's not real tea but it's all right."

When I sat down my son said, "There were several items for discussion at the directorate meeting. The completion of the Institute's reactor, my choice of successor and… why."

"Why?" I repeated.

"Some time ago I suffered a serious medical setback. Doctor Volkert found the cause and I have been under his care ever since. But we have reached the end of it, tried every experimental treatment we could devise. I am dying. I have a little time, enough to put things in order… I am sorry, Mother."

He said it so calmly, like it wasn't anything, like it wasn't the end of the world all over again. I was frozen for a moment while the room faded in front of my eyes. "No—_no_! You can't be—we've hardly met, after everything! Isn't there something you can do? Robotics builds _people_, can't they make you a new liver or whatever?"

"Sadly no." He tapped the back of his head. "It is here, placed just where it will do the most damage. Dean did make some suggestions but—become like Kellogg? No. I'll see the Institute's future secure and have no regrets. Except, perhaps, that I didn't have more time to know you."

The thought that came then was that there was never anything I could have done. It was all over before I got out of the vault. My family was over. I heard my own voice from very far away, "Make peace with the Commonwealth, you can still do that..." I was pleading, not really knowing what I was saying.

I think Shaun could tell just how badly I was falling apart. He stood up. "I should go. We'll talk later. I truly am sorry. This is not how I'd wanted to tell you."

My mouth said, "Make sure you're out of sight before using the relay or there'll be a panic." But I stood up and hugged my son.

He hugged me back, after a moment, but I had that familiar feeling that he knew this meant something to me but he didn't really understand why.


	76. Granny's Old Armchair

**It always felt like evening sing-alongs and drinking booze would be common evening activities in Sanctuary so I was looking for the right song. I found this one in a book from the thirties and declared it perfect- even though it isn't actually, the real tune is slower than I thought it would be so you'll have to imagine they sing a livelier version in Sanctuary.**

Begin Recording

Granny's Old Armchair

Recording by Scribe Ellison

One of the charms of the town of Sanctuary that we don't have in the Citadel is that in the evenings people really do sit around the fire and sing. These days the houses are wired for electricity and have heat, but there is something attractive to the heart about the settlement's central fire, apart from the meat often cooking over it which is of course attractive to the stomach. So any settlers who feel like being social at the end of the day gather here in the evening. There are discussions, stories told or read from books, and singing.

The favorite song is called Granny's Old Armchair and must be from before the war because some of the words are quite strange.

Tonight I ask the General, "Where did the song come from? Is it about Mama Murphy?"

The General shakes her head and chuckles. "Sturges knew it. He doesn't know where he learned it, but he started singing it one day and everyone picked it up. I think because of Mama Murphy and because it mentions lawyers and everybody knows that was my job."

Someone starts the song again, with the accompaniment of a drum and the homemade guitar, "_My grandmother she, at the age of eighty-three, one day took sick and died! And after she was dead, the will of course was read, by a lawyer as we all stood side by side..._" The tune breaks off for fiddling with the guitar.

"Did you read wills?" I ask.

"I did. I helped people write wills too. People had a lot more stuff before the war, and a lot more money. Everything worked differently. It doesn't matter now… the song doesn't make much sense these days but it's fun to bellow out. I don't think any of us are going to be joining Magnolia on stage anytime soon."

From across the fire comes, "Except me!"

"...Except Shiloh, who will be a club singer at night after jumping out of vertibirds all day." her mother finishes, smiling.

"Should I tell her there's no stage at the Citadel?"

Shiloh hollers out the chorus in a piping voice, "_How they tittered how they chaffed, how my brothers and my sisters laughed, when they heard the lawyer declare, Granny's left you her old armchair!_" Brother and sister scribes, I don't think Shiloh Mason has much future in music.

Em has that faraway look that means she's remembering something. "The last live music I heard before everything ended was at some army thing, they flew in some rising stars from out west to brighten spirits on the homefront and I got a ticket since Nate was overseas. I remember one singer… Vera Keyes. Voice like smoke and whiskey and everything bad for you. Didn't think I'd hear anything like that again, but Magnolia has moments when she sounds just the same. ...don't know why the other scribes would care, but that's a prewar story for them. I miss prewar music, but this is nice too."

It is nice. The guitar is back on, such as it is… I'm being unkind. The combined intellect of all the field scribes hasn't been able to make a proper guitar either. "_When you settle down in life, find a girl to be your wife, you'll find it very handy I declare! On cold and frosty nights when the fire burns bright, you can sit in your old armchair!_"

That's Mama Murphy, sitting by the fire in a very distinctive green armchair. I wonder if it has thousands of 'pounds' hidden inside like in the song. I assume pounds is another word for prewar money, since two thousand pounds of anything wouldn't fit inside a chair. Mama Murphy often reads books aloud for whoever cares to listen, and her main job is to keep an eye on the youngest children. Now, she's knitting.

The General sees me looking. "That chair, it was a project. When we first got here I asked Mama Murphy if there was anything she wanted, besides chems. She said she'd love a really comfy chair like she had in Quincy so she could sit comfy after a long day. So Sturges and I built her one, to her exacting specifications. I hauled pillows back for stuffing and we traded with the Abernathys for the green velvet and Marci gave us grief for every hour we weren't doing more important projects. But Mama Murphy was so happy. Happier than I ever saw her, until Doc Jenna told her, 'it's possible to take chems safely, with precautions.' It's not really about the chems, for Mama Murphy. She uses the sight to help people. I'm not totally convinced it's real but she is and she's convinced she's helping people."

Brother and sister scribes, when I return to the capital I believe I will suggest campfires and singing should take the place of research for the occasional evening.

"_Oh the old girl and me were as happy as can be, for when my work was over I declare, I never abroad would roam but each night skated home, and was seated in my old armchair!_"


	77. Negotiations

**When I started this story I decided the actual peace conference would happen offscreen because, let's face it, if I really knew how to make peace between warring factions I'd be working at the UN or something instead of writing fanfic here in the Great State of Quarantine. So I'm covering it only in the broadest of terms and leaving the details to your imagination.**

Begin Recording

Negotiations

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Of course you want to hear about the peace conference. It's not much to put on a holotape; most of the negotiations happened by messages. By radio, dead drops, and the molecular relay.

My son sent the first one, a holotape teleported to the airport with a message saying that for the good of the Commonwealth, the Institute was prepared to talk terms. Maxson's reply was basically, "Prepare to be bombed you abominations."

But it turned out there were… reasons. Maxson could have sailed the Prydwen over the CIT ruins to the spot that Haylin had traced the relay signal to and bombed the tar out of it, which probably would have damaged the Institute.

Except that the Prydwen has a coolant shortage, so it can't get far from the airport. And the airport is within range of the long guns at the Castle. By the time that sank in Maxson had heard from Paladin Danse, who'd heard from me, just how much non-abomination technology the Institute had. The proctors on the Prydwen were counseling, 'Sure, kill the synths, but not until we have their hydroponic gel formula.'

The rank and file Brotherhood were starting to calm down a little too. When you show up to collect donations from farms and the farmers have everything ready to go and then they invite you sit down for dinner and a beer it softens the martial spirit a bit.

The Institute had problems by then too. Their surface agents were disappearing, their sources of information going quiet as the Railroad snatched up those agents and set them free. A few dozen of them joined caravans out of the Commonwealth to start new lives.

So both groups had turned to me, the person who could go everywhere, to be their assassin.

Only I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't put a bomb on the Institute's reactor for Desdemona, and I certainly wouldn't poison everybody. I wouldn't put a bomb on the Prydwen's hydrogen tanks when my son suggested it. There are a coupe of kids on the Prydwen, squires, and I wasn't going to kill them any more than I was going to kill the kids in the Institute.

There was discussion, several different discussions, on the wisdom of just shooting Maxson. I can't say I wasn't tempted. But turning him into a martyr would probably have done more harm than good. And he's backed by the West Coast Brotherhood, and we don't know who they are or what weapons they might bring along if they came to punish the Commonwealth for killing their boy. That was a big point against assassination.

Also the best chance to assassinate Maxson would have been to have me do it, and I wasn't sure I could. Certainly not without dying in the attempt. And neither my son nor my friend was willing to sacrifice me. I was almost surprised by this; Desdemona puts the cause above her own life and I wouldn't have been shocked I she'd put it above mine, and Shaun… he worked so hard to build the Institute as it is today and he's so proud of it I wouldn't have been shocked if he'd been willing to sacrifice me to protect it.

But he didn't, and he was willing to try diplomacy instead.

I think Deacon mentioned it first, as a joke. "Maybe we could get everybody in a room and have a peace conference. We'd need a round table, of course." and we were… at the Castle, because Deacon was there to talk to a girl who'd just escaped from the Institute and signed up as a recruit. She ended up staying as a Minuteman, but happier to know the Railroad was there to help if she needed it. So Deacon said this and Preston and Ronnie kind of gaped at him and Preston said, "Nice idea but I can't imagine either side actually showing up." And Ronnie said, "And would the boss of those people you have nothing to do with come talk peace with the boss of the Institute?"

Deacon was looking very thoughtful, which was interesting. "You know, I bet she would."

I said, "I could ask Shaun..."

Preston, also thoughtful, offered, "We might be able to put some pressure on Maxson. I know you don't want to fire on the blimp, but we could threaten if we had to."

"We might not have to. I know some of his people, and some of the settlers know some of his people, and we can pitch 'the Institute isn't making any more abominations and they'll sell you a measles vaccine..."

Deacon looked at the lot of us. "You think it could work?"

Everyone looked at me. "Let's try. We've got them talking, sort of, let's take it all the way. Official peace."

So more letters back and forth, a lot of fast talking on my part. And some begging and bribing and making promises I wasn't sure I could keep. There were good reasons for everyone to take a step back from the violence, I just had to be convincing enough with them.

In the end it worked. My son, and Elder Maxson and Desdemona and Hancock all agreed to come sit down face to face without shooting each other. Diamond City was a problem, since the mayor had until recently been property of the Institute and nobody knew it. He sent his secretary who, the mayor said, was, 'smarter than she looks and doesn't know anything about this.' The rest of the settlements chose me to represent them, which I didn't think was right since I was in the center of the thing, but nobody else seemed right to do it. Preston would be there with me of course but he made it clear that he wasn't the person to take charge. And Ronnie is… Ronnie. The recruits understand that she growls and snaps because she cares, but she doesn't really turn it off around anyone else.

And then we did it. Everybody came, they talked. Shaun did it, he stood up to say that the Institute was rethinking its policies and would be communicating and trading with the people of the surface in the future. He handed over records, proof that the Institute had disappeared people but not as many as was believed, and for reasons. That was important, letting people see that the Institute had reasons no matter how terrible they were.

The other delegates made their feelings clear, made a lot of demands for reparations, said they didn't believe a word of it. Then there was more yelling, which eventually wound down to just talking and finally anger gave way to the possibility of actually finding solutions.

Maxson was the worst. He's here to wipe out abominations and it's hard to counter that with practicality. But knowing the Institute didn't really want almost-human 'abominations' either and was going back to making robots that were just robots made him at least listen to everybody else.

It took days. Days and every bit of persuasion I could muster and at the end all we had was a tentative agreement: 'all right, _we_ won't shoot first.' I wasn't sure I could trust Maxson not to roll out the army after all, or Desdemona to go after the Prydwen, or even worse one of the division heads to go behind Father's back. But we'd done something.

And that's it, really. If you want to hear it all, we did recordings and Piper took the minutes in shorthand.

Of course the moment everybody went home they all started wondering who _was_ going to shoot first, and we had some close calls. A dead synth that turned out to have been shot by raiders. A rash of disappearances in Diamond City. A vertibird downed by laser fire—that was also raiders. A Gunner raid on Boston airport, god only knows who put them up to that. Each time, I was sure one group was going to start the war, but each time someone was there to talk the leaders down.

I was thankful for every day that passed without violence, and once in a while I got to be happy that something good had happened. The Institute really was letting synths leave, and had halted synth production to rethink just how human synths should be. Gen-two synths aren't intelligent but they also don't run away so they're a better value.

The Railroad pivoted instantly from hiding synths to helping them find communities where they won't face prejudice, and learn skills and get their heads on straight after being controlled by codes in the Institute. It took years but they've almost worked themselves out of a job by now. Pretty soon Desdemona's planning on heading to the Capital Wasteland to track down the last remaining slavers. I think she's already got Tinker Tom making something that jams those bomb collars. Maybe you should warn the Citadel.

And your Brotherhood… I confess, my money was on Maxson being the one to start the shooting. Brotherhood honor would demand he keep his word, but it's hard not to see how hungry for victory he is. Making deals with the enemy kept everybody alive but it's not much of a victory. I was uninvited from the Prydwen for insubordination as soon as I refused to wipe out the Institute so I don't know what happened up there. If I had to guess—Paladin Danse is well respected and he eats and breathes the rulebook, he has no other loyalties but he can see the bigger picture. I bet anyone who wanted to start something, he talked them down and he did it all by appealing to honor and without even mentioning the long guns at the Castle.

I stayed at the Castle for, it must've been two weeks, just in case. We had a plan. If the Prydwen turned towards us the Castle would be evacuated except for a dozen people to man the artillery and hope we could hit a vital spot before we got bombed into oblivion. I had nightmares about it.

But for whatever reason it didn't happen. Instead the patrols started hitting prewar ruins likely to have interesting tech which was fine, and showing up to requisition crops which was better than fine because that meant contact between your soldiers and the people they depended on for food. Last I've heard Maxson wants to go up the coast to Portland and Saint John but some soldiers don't want to leave girlfriends or boyfriends in the Commonwealth. They're talking about making the airport a permanent settlement like your Citadel while the Prydwen explores.


	78. Girls' Night

Begin Recording

Girls' Night

Recording by Scribe Ellison

Another thing, first we had to find a place to hold this peace conference, where everybody would be safe from everybody else. We'd just cleared the Sunshine Tidings Co-op for a new settlement but nobody had moved in yet and we were still in the middle of rebuilding, so it seemed like a good place. So we applied the second, unofficial motto of the Minutemen: Raise a Barn at a Minute's Notice. A barn with a conference table—round—and all angles visible from all other angles. Everyone needed secure housing as far away from everyone else as possible so everyone could have their own guards. It was sweet, the Minutemen suddenly proud of their hospitality wanting to show that they could build houses that were both secure and comfortable enough to impress people who lived on an airship and underground.

Then there was another, unexpected question: what was I going to _wear_? Before the war it would've been one of my business suits, but none of them had survived. I missed my tailored jackets and heels, but not the calf-length pencil skirts that made stairs a challenge. But in this new world… I needed fashion advice. I needed my girlfriends.

I had Piper, and I convinced Scribe Haylin to visit Sanctuary. Allie Filmore wanted a trial run at visiting the surface so she didn't have to do something important on her first time outside.

So she figured out how to relay herself to Sanctuary. "It's so bright. And… dusty. And whooooooah." Allie covered her eyes and looked down. "That's a lot more… more than it looks through the watchers."

Round-eyed Piper muttered, "...never seen the sky..." I could just see that Piper's mind was full of headlines—_Institute Scientist'__s First Time Outside!_—but she managed not to immediately pounce.

Poor Allie risked another glance up. It was a beautiful day, bright blue sky with pillowy clouds unstained by radioactive dust. She stood a little straighter. Then Dogmeat came over to greet Haylin then Piper then the new arrival.

"Oh wow, it's a dog. I thought they'd be bigger. All right. Nothing I just said should be repeated."

Haylin laughed. "Who'd we tell? I think there's a bigger dog around here too. And cats. Have you ever seen a cat? Cats are beautiful."

We did indeed have cats, and Piper fetched one and brought it into my house and we petted the cat and raided my closet.

I have lots of clothes, things I'd bought or picked up. Half a dozen vault suits in different stages of falling apart and being patched. Wasteland leathers, prewar stuff when I could find it in good shape. A sequinned dress Imogene Cabot gave me because she was tired of seeing me underdressed in the Third Rail. Bits of armor in various styles, and drifter rags for going undercover as not myself. Coats and boots for winter. Not as many clothes as I had before the war but I was surprised at how many things I'd accumulated.

With Allie much more comfortable under a ceiling my friends turned to the task at hand. Haylin had a great time pulling things out of my closet and holding them up to herself, confirming my suspicion that Haylin was pretty girly before joining the army. "Well I've never seen you in anything but those vault suits. it's like your uniform. But it's not very dignified."

"Got anything else blue, Blue?"

"I've got… where'd it end up?.. we found this in storage in the Castle. Preston said it's the traditional General's uniform. Only it's..." I shook out the jacket, dark blue with a double row of big silver buttons.

"It's perfect!" Haylin said.

"I look like I'm doing historical reenactment." but I put it on and did up a few of the buttons. In the whole Commonwealth I hadn't found a mirror big enough to show me how it looked.

"Looks fine to me Blue. What's historical reenactment?" Piper was lounging in a chair, petting the cat.

"When people dress up like historical figures and fight old battles with fake guns. Older battles, from three hundred years before the great war."

Haylin asked, "...why?"

"To understand the past I guess. And for fun." as I said the words I wondered how strange this would sound to these women who lived in a world where the last war was still here in every part of life.

Piper just said, "That sounds like a waste of time."

"But understanding the past is important."

"Is that fun to do?" Allie asked.

I shrugged. "We had a lot of time before the war, I had a dishwasher and a clothes washer and Cogsworth to do my chores. We didn't have to grow all our food either." Saying it like that was disorienting. And I didn't really have more free time before; I spent it all doing case reading. There was no way I'd be able to explain what a lawyer does all day. So I just held up the matching hat. "This came with the coat, but I'm not sure about copying Hancock's hat fashion when he's going to be there."

Piper laughed, grabbed the faded leather tricorn and plopped it on my head. "Is this thing older than you are?"

I hadn't thought of that and now I laughed too. "Maybe? I think Hancock got his out of a museum so it might be the real thing. I think if this hat really was that old it would have fallen apart by now. I'm not wearing the hat, but what do you think of the coat? I need to look that'll make people listen to me without looking like I _think_ I'm in charge. I knew how to do that before the war but not now."

Allie's gaze sharpened. "Not white, and not anything that looks like a uniform. You don't want to look like a member of either side. But clean. You don't want to look like a wastelander."

Piper, whose beloved red leather coat was tattered and very wastelander, made a face but didn't argue. Haylin added, "I like the blue coat. You look official. Masculine. Since most people in the room will be men I don't think you want to go too feminine."

I wished I'd been able to get Desdemona out to this 'Girls' Fashion Night' that we were having, but she wouldn't come out of hiding. I'd never seen her in anything but her armor and her favorite scarf anyway.

So we discussed the pros and cons and in the end I went with the official General's coat and another vault suit because I'm famous for wearing vault suits.


	79. Death in the Family

Begin Recording

Death in the Family

Recording by Scribe Ellison

After that, everyone needed me everywhere. We'd all signed an agreement, but nobody fully trusted anybody else to keep it unless I was there. So I was chasing stray synths and keeping an eye on the Railroad and the Brotherhood since I didn't entirely trust Maxson not to try something or Desdemona not to assume Maxson was about to try something and try to get her revenge first.

Then I got the message that my son's health was going downhill fast and he wanted to see me. I hadn't been to the Institute in a few weeks, wanting to let everyone have some time to cool down, and I hadn't realized the end was so close.

I got to the Institute and sensed the change as I rode the elevator down. The people around were standing differently, huddled unhappily together. Ready to lose the center of their world.

The boy found me at the bottom of the elevator. "You came back! Father is sick, he says he's going to die soon. Is that real? Everybody says to stay out of the way or they'll shut me down with a code! And I don't understand what's happening!"

He needed me, but talking to a real child about death was a scary enough prospect and I couldn't imagine how to talk about it to a synth. My mind fumbled for words. "Hey kid… it's real. Father isn't going to be around much longer. He knew it was going to happen, so I'm sure he made a plan for you."

The boy nodded glumly. "He said lots of things that I don't understand."

I sighed and squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe we can talk about it later, but I think that's going to be a long talk and I need to see Father now. Why don't you find your friend Eve? She won't threaten you with codes. And I promise I'll come back and talk to you, but it might be tomorrow or another day before I can. Is that all right?"

The boy sighed and nodded. "Father is talking to everyone and he said he wanted you to come as soon as you got here. You promise to come back later sometime?"

"I promise." I said, hoping Shaun really had made a plan for the child's future.

The Director's Quarters were full of people, and I waited outside listening. It sounded… like a meeting. Father was talking about the future of each division, mentioning different projects and giving final advice or permissions. His voice had changed, taken on an old man's quaver in such a short time. The division heads came out one at a time. Doctor Holdren and Doctor Binet were fighting back tears. Justin Ayo looked thunderously angry, and gave me a killing look as he walked past.

Doctor Li said, "Father has named you his successor. I trust you won't try to actually take the position?"

"God no."

"Good. You've done enough here."

I couldn't disagree.

Doctor Volkert found me. "Good, you're here. He doesn't have long. We knew this was coming, all I can do now is make him comfortable."

I nodded, heart breaking, and went in.

My son was lying in a medical bed, propped up to talk to the people around him and with only one discreet tube delivering medication into his arm. His illness was obvious now, his face sunken in behind his beard. He finished what he was saying and gestured everyone out, with a smile, and his hand fell still on the sheet. "Mother."

"Shaun." I bent down to give him a half hug and kissed his silver hair. He smiled patiently and let me. "Are you..?"

His smile went softer, realer than the one he'd given his co-workers. "I knew how this would go. Everything is prepared. The Institute will go on without me." His eyes closed for a long moment then opened again. "Every generation makes the world new. We did it out of order… the next world is yours. Once I'm gone it's all up to you."

I was absolutely crying then. "I'll do my best. I'll protect everything you built. Shaun I know I didn't… I wasn't what you wanted either."

His eyes narrowed and he chuckled a little. "Our time together has been strange hasn't it. I spent years wondering what you were like. Thinking about all we missed out on. We couldn't get the time back, but I want you to know that I'm grateful for the time we've had." My son reached out and I took his hand.

"I'm glad I found you." I said and he smiled.

"As am I. I think I'd like to rest… please stay a while." Shaun said and settled back, his eyes closing.

I sat for a while holding my son's hand and listening to him breathe and thinking how sad it was that I was the only one here. Shaun had no family, no lover, no child, just co-workers. The synths he'd called his family weren't welcome here for this. He only had me, the stranger-mother he'd only known for a little while and who had forced the Institute to change against its will.

I couldn't go back and talk to the boy after that. I used my relay to send myself to a rooftop downtown to just… get used to it. Let go of any last dreams I had of cheating time, finding my family again.

Then my radio came on with poor Preston saying very apologetically, "Em? I'm so sorry to bother you at a time like this but we just saw a distress flare and you're the only one who can get there fast..."

So I went to help.

My son lingered a few days after that but he didn't wake up again. I got the message that he'd passed and then a summons from a diffident Doctor Holdren saying that they were holding the Director's memorial. I dressed up, in a white dress since everyone in the Institute wears white so I thought it would be respectful.

I did not feel welcome. Most of the scientists turned away from me, and there were whispers. It had gotten around that Father wanted me to be the next director and I could hardly stand up and say I had no intention of taking over.

The ceremony was held in the heart of the Institute among the trees and waterfalls. Someone had put up a portrait of Father, a photograph taken the day he became the Director. Younger, his hair was as black as mine and his face was sharper and colder. Music played and different people came forward to share memories of Father's life and achievements.

I didn't speak. I stood in the back and tried to cry silently. Tried to be proud of my son, who really did a lot of good for the Institute and its vision of the future even if he'd also done a lot of evil.

After, the other scientists slowly scattered back to their work or to the canteen. Looking to the future, like Father would have wanted.

I sat on one of the benches and wiped my eyes and watched the water flowing under my feet. I felt a little bit lighter, like everything I'd been hoping for had been a weight that was lifted now. Something had ended. Something good, but now that it was over maybe I could look to the future too. Find something else to hope for.

The boy came out from one of the doorways and sidled over, slowly like he wasn't sure I'd want to see him. I smiled and patted the bench next to me. "Hey kid. I tried to find you but Liam said you were watching from a balcony."

"They said I shouldn't talk since I'm a synth but other synths talked. Father is gone."

"Yeah."

"He told me… he told me you're my mother. Are you really? Why didn't you tell me?"

I felt a wash of anger for my son. He could've talked to me before he told the boy that. He could've told him the whole truth. "It's… sort of true. You want me to tell you?"

"Mmhm."

"A long time ago I had a baby, and some things happened so our ages got out of order and that baby grew up to be Father. I'm his mother—and Father made you from his own dna, you even have some of his memories from when he was a baby. So I didn't give birth to you but in other ways I am your mother."

"Father said I should go with you."

I saw in my mind the room I'd made for my son, it was all ready and I liked this boy and worried about what would happen to him surrounded by people who just thought of him as Father's pet project. "Maybe you could. You might not want to. The surface gets hot and cold and dirty and if I was your mom I'd have to make you do your schoolwork and your chores. I couldn't just be your friend like I am down here. You should talk to Doctor Binet and Eve and your friends and see what they think you should do, and we can decide later."

"I decided I want to live on the surface with you." The boy said immediately.

Something about it startled me into a smile. "This is not the right time to decide something big like that. We should wait until we're a little less sad about Father so we can think clearly."

The boy made a face, not liking my logic but I wasn't budging. I was having way too many emotions to know what I was doing, and the boy deserved better than to be brought home like a stray cat just because my heart was broken.


	80. Gifts

Begin Recording

Gifts

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I didn't think anyone else in the Institute knew how to get in touch with me but one day I got a message from Allie. "We need to talk about the synth boy."

Things in the Institute were different. The scientists and synths who'd stopped to say hello or ask me things now ignored me. I got sideways glances from the synths and obvious snubbing from many of the humans. Before I'd been Father's special guest; now I was the villain who'd convinced him to deny half their experiments, ruining years of work because they couldn't get human test subjects.

Allie looked tired, carrying the weight of her world on her shoulders now as she gestured me to have a seat in her office. She looked at me the same way Desdemona did now, a look that was almost friendship but couldn't quite get there because she couldn't quite trust me.

And just like Desdemona Allie said, "General." With heavy irony and a smile.

"Director." I replied, only smiling. "What's up with the kid?"

"He can't stay here. He's… how much did Shaun tell you about him?"

Allie was the only one who called my son Shaun instead of Father. I said, "Probably not enough."

"Synths don't grow. The child's mind will mature but his body won't change. And if we did create an adult body to transfer his neural map to… it would look like Father. People are already wondering if Shaun made that copy to replace himself. I don't think it's true, but Shaun did start work on the child, and release you from the vault, when his illness was first diagnosed. We can all agree his reasons… weren't purely scientific."

There was pain in her voice and I reached over to put my hand on hers. My son hadn't felt close with anyone, really, but that didn't mean no one had cared about him. And then I'd shown up and he'd immediately given me all the attention he'd never shown to the people who'd always been there. I hadn't even realized until later.

But there was nothing I could say to make that better so I just asked, "Did Father have a plan for the kid?"

"Shaun planned to program the child to believe he was your son. But you got along well so that didn't have to happen."

I cringed, not sure if I was more horrified or angry. I could miss my son and still hate every time he set us out like experiments without asking what we wanted. "Of course the kid can come live in Sanctuary. I wanted to make sure that was really what's best for him or I would've brought him back already."

"It certainly is what's best. If he stays here he'll end up reset and made into a worker eventually. There's no place for a synth with that kind of personality here." Allie sighed. "He should never have been created. But that's not his fault."

And I almost agreed. Everything about the kid's creation was tainted with all the terrible things about the Institute. Creating life without caring for its fate. Or maybe the boy was just the sign of my son's fumbling attempt to create a family. Someone with no understanding, doing damage, but trying.

"Well we've got a place for him topside. I'll go find him, he always seems to turn up."

And indeed he did. I made it down to the shop to pick up my order of toiletries and medical supplies. The synth vendor informed me that I was no longer permitted to purchase weapons or any technology, but he still accepted caps for toothpaste so that was fine with me. I made it to the commissary to buy some nutrient bars as well. The dense calories made them good for traveling, and for giving them to anyone found starving. Which happened, every so often the Minutemen would find a traveler who'd run out of food and was close to collapse.

Just as expected, the kid appeared next to me, looking up hopefully.

"Hey you. Still sure you want to come live in the Commonwealth?"

"Yes! Now?"

"As soon as you're ready. Today if you want. Pack your stuff and say goodbye to everybody. I don't know how often we'll be able to visit again."

"Ok!" The boy turned to run off then hesitated and turned back, "...I have a sister."

"What? What do you mean?"

"In robotics. Doctor Binet made her. If you want me maybe you want her too."

Maybe I did, but I had no idea what he was talking about and now he was gone. I went to ask Doctor Binet.

"Alan. The kid just told me the strangest thing..."

"Ah. Should have known he'd tell you."

"He has a sister?"

"In a manner of speaking. Come, through here." We went through a few doors into another of the many rooms in Robotics, with tables and drawers and pieces of robotic early synths sitting around, hands and legs connected to wires, and lots of terminals. "She's a project of mine… off the books. Father wanted to create the one child synth. He had no interest in improving the build or the programming. The project has the potential to be very interesting, but not if it's canceled before it begins!"

"So you made a second one."

"Yes. She's a copy of the boy, all I did was swap the chromosomes."

And he pulled open a drawer in the wall and there she was. Connected to wires and tubes, with a terminal port plugged into the back of her head. Me, when I was ten. She looked _just_ like me. I must have gasped audibly.

Doctor Binet said, "I'm sorry. I had no idea you were coming here or I would have chosen a different appearance."

That feeling of my heart twisting. I reached in to smooth the child's black hair. She looked like Snow White in the coffin. "What's going to happen to her?"

"Well... nothing. She has the same early data package that Father made for the boy, and a strong learning protocol, but she's never been awake. I'd hoped perhaps, if the next Director approved… to make her part of my family. You know Eve is a synth. I thought she might enjoy having a child who is like her… but Director Filmore won't approve that any more than Father would have. Eventually I won't be able to hide this project anymore and I'll have to discard her. It's a shame."

"What's her name?"

"S9-25."

Of course it was. And there was only one thing to say next. "If you're sure she can't be part of your family… she can be part of mine. Wake her up and send her to Sanctuary. She can have a life, as good as we can make it in the wasteland."

Doctor Binet was delighted. "You'd do that? That would be the perfect test for the learning protocols, an ordinary upbringing! Are you sure? It'll take a few months to finish her upgrades so she'll wake up and then I'll send her to you. Do you want to add anything? Give her a name?"

It was right there in my mind, the memory of talking to Nate over a crackly international telephone connection when I first learned I was pregnant. He'd spent so much money on those calls, to be with me as much as he could even while he was deployed. I'd told him about buying the crib and that rocket mobile, the story of every visit to the doctor. And we'd talked endlessly about names, going through our whole family tree for inspiration. I think at the time it was less about names and more about something to talk about, connecting words across distance. But we had settled on two names in the end.

So I was all choked up when I bent over the terminal and typed in a name. "I'll make you a holotape, with me and the kid talking. So she'll know our voices and feel like part of the family."

"Of course. That will be beneficial. Now I have a lot to do to get..." He looked at the screen, "...Shiloh up and about. And I think you have someone else who needs you."

I turned and there was the kid, with quite a small backpack overstuffed with books and gadgets, and more in two plastic carrying bags in each hand. He waved, "Doctor Binet! I'm going to the surface with my mom. Thank you for being my friend this whole time!"

Doctor Binet laughed and went to rub the kid's hair, "Have fun up there. Be safe. I'll see you when you visit, you and your sister."

The boy's face formed into a grimace of great uncertainty. "Program her not to be annoying ok? Girls are sometimes annoying."

"I'll try." Doctor Binet said, laughing.

So we went home. Back through the heart of the Institute and up the elevator. The first time coming down I'd been almost dizzy with fear for my family and now I felt the same with… hope? Joy? Something that also felt a lot like fear because nothing else had changed even if the kid had started calling me Mom and I loved it.

We went to the molecular relay with the boy telling me about the first time he'd used it, when Father sent him to live in Diamond City for a while. So he wasn't scared since he knew it was safe. Allie had come up here to send us off, and to check what the kid was trying to bring with him. "You can take your gadgets, but not the books." The boy drooped until I told him Doc Jenna had quite a few medical books and would let him read them.

"What's this?" Allie asked.

It was a holotape. "Father gave it to me to give to my mom. It's got a message on it, and all my codes. So you can turn me into whatever you want." His face twisted as it always did when he mentioned codes.

I said, "I kind of like you the way you are. We don't have to use them unless you want to."

"But there's a code that makes me fight like a courser! That might be fun!"

Allie very pointedly gave the holotape to me instead of back to him.

I chuckled. "We'll have to talk about that before you try it. I don't know how that would even work. You're half the size of a courser. But let's get home and settle in first, then I'll listen to the tape. There's no rush."

The boy stood in the relay with his remaining possessions and I used the relay in my pip-boy and we teleported to Sanctuary. And had to squint because a sunny Commonwealth afternoon was a lot brighter than the pale light of the Institute.

There was Cogsworth, just coming up the road leading a pack brahmin from Greygarden. He dropped the rope in surprise and came sailing over. "Why! Do my eyes deceive me? Young master Shaun, is that you?"

The kid's eyes widened and he nodded hesitantly. "My name _is_ Shaun."

"It is so good to see you safely home! Your mother has been looking everywhere for you. No more wandering off for you, young man! Oh, of course! You don't remember me. I am Cogsworth, your family butler. At your service, sir."

The boy laughed like sunshine.

I said, "Cogsworth, this is my… second son. Shaun."

"Odd choice of name, Mistress Emily, but the lad is home and that's all that matters."

I don't think Cogsworth understands, but that's all right.

And then everyone was gathering around and the kid was saying, "I know what that is, that's a dog! Is he nice?" Dogmeat was grinning his dog grin and wagging his tail. Sturges said, "I hear you like building things. Want to show off your gadgets later on?" and Preston said, "Welcome to Sanctuary, Shaun."

I showed him our house and his room and he immediately asked, "This is a big house but where's my sister going to sleep?"

This was a problem. The only other room was the laundry room which was at the time used for storage with a clothesline strung out over all the junk. Even if we moved everything out it wasn't a big enough space for a child. "I think we'll have to move this wall to make a bigger room. We'll do it next week."

"You can just build a room?"

"Sure. All I need is Sturges and half a dozen Minutemen. We raise a barn at a minute's notice!"

And we were home. And it was perfect… for about two days, then Shaun started acting like a normal kid and everything I'd experiences kind of hit me all at once and we all did a lot of dumb things and everything was entirely not perfect for some months. But we figured it out, how to be a family when things aren't perfect. And here we are. Here we all are.


	81. Everything

**Here ends the main quest storyline. I think there will be more but I'm not sure if it will be unrelated chapters, a DLC story arc, or something else! So follow the story to make sure you get notified if more chapters appear, but don't follow me unless you want a million updates from my other projects! I owe my readers in the Winx Club fandom a season that I've got sitting here three chapters from done while I've been basically hiding in the Commonwealth from the terrors of 2020. This story and all your wonderful reviews are helping me get through these "unprecedented times" we're stuck in. It's been quite an adventure so far and I can't thank you enough for coming along. You all are the greatest.**

Begin Recording

Everything

Recording by Scribe Ellison

A new settlement had decided to join the Minutemen, and their welcome package is under construction.

"Seeds. Water purifier, in pieces. Wasteland Survival Guide. Map of the Commonwealth with caravan routes and raider camps marked. Radio. Parts for a siren. Distress flares and smoke canisters." The General pats the yellow trunk waiting to be loaded onto a brahmin for transport. "And they get an official visit from me and whoever else is handy, usually Preston. We go over the settlement's defenses and plan to build whatever they need. And I try to show that I'm a mere mortal and the strength of the Minutemen lies in all of us working together."

I'm not a bit surprised to learn that Em has to fight against being idolized. "There are people who believe Sarah Lyons saved the Capital Wasteland singlehandedly too."

Em makes a face. "I hate to think what they'll say about me when I'm gone. At least you're making recordings so we can preserve a record of every dumb thing I did!"

"So what else do the new settlements get?"

"Anyone from allied settlements can come to the Castle for training. Usually it's teenagers, but anyone can go. One guy, he lost both legs to a frag mine and didn't think he could be any use, but the Minutemen got him set up with a wheelchair and sniper training. He won't be as good in a fight as someone with legs but he's better off. Not just combat training either; repair and engineering, medical, reading and writing too, whatever we can find someone to teach.

"The next project is getting enough teachers to go to every settlement, make sure every kid can read and figure. We don't have enough, and you can't have doctors without teachers. If only we could get some of your scribes down off the Prydwen to help teach… that's another plan. If your brothers and sisters could come down out of the sky and join the Commonwealth I think that'd be good for everyone. Tracking dangerous technology is great, but being completely separated from the people who grow your food isn't. And they won't be able to manage it forever. Visits to collect crops are turning into parties and friendships, and eventually it'll be marriages and families."

Brother and sister scribes, I am a bit put out hearing this confident prediction about our order!

Em laughs. "Your face, Scribe. Nobody's plotting to bring down the Brotherhood, just encourage it to work with people instead of sweeping in and taking over. The same thing I'd hoped to do with the Institute, but the Institute members who are willing to show their faces above ground so far are Allie and… Allie. At least Doctor Holdren will talk farming with anyone who wants to and Doctor Binet and his family are willing, very hesitantly, to communicate with the Railroad about how particular synths have been programmed and how to help them get their heads right."

"So you want the Brotherhood and the Institute, what else do you want?" I ask, a bit sarcastically I confess.

Em doesn't notice. She sits down on the trunk and leans back, looking up at the sky and smiling. "...Everything. I want everything. More crops, more food. Chickens. Fish we can eat. Sugar maple trees, apple trees, oak trees, whole forests. I want the farms to produce enough food that we have time to train specialists. I want a medical school, an engineering school, enough architects to make real houses. I want all the books in the Boston library. I want people to have time to write new books, not just survival guides but fiction.

"I want the people of the Commonwealth to figure out a government and elect leaders with everyone represented so the settlements can stop coming to me for everything. I know why I'm at the middle of things now but we need to build a better system. Once we get things settled enough here I can travel. I'd like to visit the Capital Wasteland, hear the story of the Enclave from people who were there—and Piper wants that twice as much as I do, she wants to do a whole series on it. And Preston and Ronnie want to see the Citadel and swap tips for running a soldier training camp. And after that… I want to fix a boat and sail across the ocean."

I say, "You're joking."

"Not joking. Very cautious, but not joking. There are a lot of boats along the coast, sunken or washed up. The lighthouse settlers have salvaged a small one for traveling without having to meet everything that lives on land, and we have a few on Spectacle Island. The idea is that we find a large boat without too many holes, patch it up, a large number of trial runs and then… the first European settlers landed not too far from here, at a place called Plymouth Rock. History texts have the route and if we follow it back we'll hit the United Kingdom—people who speak English, who were on our side in the war. And Cait should get to see Ireland.

"I don't know how much of this I'll get to see, but my kids and the Minutemen and the Railroad and the Institute and the Brotherhood and all the people of the Commonwealth will go on rebuilding the world when I'm gone. And we'll see where we can go from where the great war left us. We've come this far."


End file.
